Champions and Heroes
by TheScreamingViking
Summary: Hawke is thrown into a strange new world, a place where magic is a valued skill, demons live in glowing marbles, and the people are just crazy enough to be her friends. "Hurtled into the chaos you fight, and the world will shake before you. Is it fate or chance? I can never decide..."
1. Shattered Remains

A/N: Dragon Age 2 x Final Fantasy 7 crossover. DA2 ending, Crisis Core beginning (or there abouts). F!Hawke, rated T for violence, and maybe some trigger stuff later, there will be full warning at the chapter starts if so. Not really a romance, no slash.

This is largely inspired by totallybursars' _Stars Fade_ and LunaStorm's _Exit Materia_. Both of which are fabulous and you should read. After you've read mine.

Also: I don't own anything. Please don't sue me. 

_Hawke has never played by the rules. Whether she was outrunning a blight, killing the Arishok, or just stopping her companions from murdering each other, Hawke lives on her terms, no matter the circumstances. Shenanigans throw Hawke into a world utterly foreign to her, where magic is a valued skill, demons live in glowing marbles, and the people are just crazy enough to be her friends. _

_"Hurtled into the chaos you fight, and the world will shake before you. Is it fate or chance? I can never decide..."_

* * *

**Prologue**

"I will not be defeated!" Meredith screeched, the haunting red light of lyrium crackling through her armour and bleeding from her eyes. "Maker! Aid your humble servant!" she raised her unholy sword.

The Chantry lay in ruins. The Gallows burned. Templars and mages alike lay dead everywhere. Hawke had chosen a side, but what difference did it make in the end? She had already killed Orsino, and now she would kill Meredith.

Anders she had killed in the chantry courtyard.

Merrill fell as they fought through the city.

Isabella died fighting Orsino.

Aveline was crushed by the fighting statues.

Hawke stood with Fenris and Varric, all that was left of the little family she had held together through sheer force of will, no matter what this blighted city threw at them. It looked like Hawke's luck was running out. Her magic was at an all-time low, she didn't have the strength left of use any of the knife tricks Isabella taught her. Varric was down to his last bundle of crossbow bolts, and even Fenris seemed to be flagging.

Sweat soaked hair sticking to her face, Hawke charged the mad Templar. Swinging her staff at Meredith; she planned to knock the accursed lyrium sword away and blast her with one last spell.

Hawke should have known better than to expect anything to go according to plan.

The blade of her staff met Meredith's sword. With the sound of breaking glass, the sword shattered. Shards of the venomous lyrium exploded into the air around them, the blood red power swirled around them like a vortex, enveloping Hawke in an eerie silence. She saw a faint impression of Fenris and Varric knocked back onto the ground; somewhere Meredith was screaming. It all faded away and she was drowning in a sea of red; it almost felt like the fade only… colder. Maybe she had passed out from exhaustion? Just as the last of her consciousness drained away she heard a chuckle, and an echo of Flemeth from long ago:

"It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

* * *

A/N: Updates should be fairly regular. Let me know what you think! I'm looking to improve my writing so any sort of critique is appreciated :)


	2. Wake up and Smell the Garbage

_A/N: my Hawke is as much a rogue as she is a mage. I get that for gameplay purposes it's convenient to split them into distinct categories, but realistically if you were a mage in hiding wouldn't you want to be able to fight without completely blowing your cover? That and rogues are awesome. So there._

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. _

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Hawke awoke to the smell of baking bread. Reflecting on how much she loved Oranna's baking, she stretched luxuriously- and promptly fell off the narrow bed she had been sleeping on.

She was not in her estate. She wasn't in Varric's suite at the Hanged Man either; it was far too clean for that. The room was small and plain, with no decorations except for the flowering pot plants in the corner and her trusty staff leaning against a wall. There was a strange fixture on the ceiling, with light streaming from it. It didn't smell like a candle, but she couldn't feel any magic in the room. Where was she?

The Battle. It was the last thing she remembered; Templars and mages fighting, Meredith with her lyrium sword. The sword shattering… but where was she now?

She heard footsteps from outside the room, then a muffled voice. "I think she might have fallen off the bed. Don't worry, I'll be careful." There was a quiet knock before the door opened.

"Oh hello! You're awake!" The speaker was a teenage girl with a long brown pony tail and a mischievous look in her eye.

"Hello." replied Hawke "Might you tell me where I am? And what happened to my friends?"

"You're in Sector 5!" she said, as though that explained everything. "Though, I didn't see your friends. Sorry."

Sector 5? Where was that? And what was this girl wearing? She was dressed in nothing more than a thin summer dress, her arms and legs completely exposed. She must be freezing! Pirates aside, nobody dressed like that in Kirkwall. Wait… surely not.

"Sector 5. Right. Where is that exactly? Also, how did I get here?" Hawke stood and started checking her gear. She didn't want to spend all day being confused by a teenager, she needed to track down Fenris and Varric and make sure they were alright.

"The sector 5 slums, silly! Midgar! I found you on the path outside the house. I don't know what happened but you were bleeding pretty badly, so I brought you into the house. My Mum didn't like it but I don't think you're dangerous."

Hawke just stared at her. "You live in the slums and yet you brought a random bleeding stranger into your house? Are you mad?" Usually Hawke would have appreciated not being recognized but she'd spent too many years trying to protect people who kept on courting danger to be pleased with the situation. "You should have listened to your mother. I could have easily hurt both of you!"

The girl looked rather put out "I healed you! I think it's good to help people." she said with a stubborn nod of her head.

"Not at the risk of your family." Hawke said with a sternness that allowed for no argument.

The girl opened her mouth to retort anyway put then paused. Hawke felt something shift. Magic of some form was moving… it almost felt like the fade, but more tangible, and… green? How could something feel green? Hawke hadn't cast anything, which meant- oh. '_I healed you.' _Clearly Hawke's mind was lagging behind.

The girl blinked at her, looking nervous for the first time. "You're not from around here."

Hawke didn't recognize whatever spell that was; though she knew it wasn't an attack. Hawke was intrigued. "You're a mage. Don't worry; I'm not going to tell the Templars."

"What?" If anything now the girl just looked confused.

"I felt whatever spell you just cast, and you shouldn't do that by the way, you never know who'll be able to sense what you're up to." Now the girl really did look concerned. "But you don't need to worry. Like I said, I'm not going to tell the Templars."

"You… you felt it too? I thought I was the only one... but what's a Templar?"

_That_ got Hawke's attention. The conversation that followed was long and confusing. The girl, who eventually introduced herself as Aerith, peppered Hawke with questions. Hawke interrogated her in turn. Aerith was practically bubbling with the new information. Hawke however, didn't like what she was hearing.

This was Midgar. Here, there were no elves. No dwarves. There were no mages either, only expensive baubles with magic sealed inside them. Aerith had a connection with the fade – she kept calling it 'the life stream', or even stranger, 'the planet' – but she was the only one who could feel it. On the one hand, great! No mages meant no abominations and no Templars! But then, where was she? Where in Thedas were there no elves, let alone no mages? Even the Qunari had mages, and they weren't from Thedas at all.

Aerith had never heard of Kirkwall. Or Fereldan. Or Orlais, or Tevinter.

"How about Par Vollen? That's not even in Thedas." said Hawke, starting to sound a little desperate.

"What's Thedas?" Aerith asked; head tilted to the side in curiosity.

Hawke put her head in her hand. "Aerith, I think I need a moment. Please."

"Oh, oh, okay." She got up from the bed and scuttled out of the room. Hawke barely noticed.

This wasn't Thedas.

Maybe Aerith was just crazy, or lying. She didn't act like a crazy person though, and why would she lie? She was naïve and shy certainly, but that wasn't madness, just lack of experience. She almost reminded her of Merrill- No, she wasn't going to think about Merrill- _gasping in pain as the abomination crushed her within her own armour-_Hawke stood abruptly, trying to dislodge her own memories. The small room was starting to feel stifling, more than Dark town ever had. She grabbed her staff and marched out the door. The rest of the house was no less oppressive, no matter how many flowers were blossoming.

Aerith and an older woman she assumed was the mother were sitting at a table in the dining room.

"Thank you for letting me stay but I have to go." Hawke spotted the door and kept walking. It was probably in their best interests that she leave. Trouble had always followed her, like a diseased dog that couldn't be scared off.

She was outside. She could breathe. Wait, no she couldn't, ugh what was that? The low town docks smelt nicer than this place! It wasn't quite as bad as dark down, but then rotting corpses didn't stink as much as dark town.

Hawke kept walking, taking in her surroundings. There was no sky, just a huge plate sealing off the world above them. How very odd.

There was so much metal. How did they smelt it all? And into such odd shapes too. As foreign as much of it seemed, Hawke knew a dangerous slum when she saw one. She felt herself adopting a familiar alertness, a set of instincts finely honed by years of living in Kirkwall's low town. She found it rather calming. And that she found amusing, a filthy stinking slum comforted her; while a tidy, flower filled home unnerved her. Her mother would have been appalled.

Her mind clearing from the earlier panic, she took stock of what she had. Her staff was resting comfortably against her back. Her knives were still in their sheaths against her thighs and calves. She was in her best armour set, a second skin by now, and in surprisingly good condition if a little blood soaked – _Anders' blood_ her traitorous mind whispered – she ruthlessly clamped down on that thought. This wasn't the time or place.

This wasn't too bad. She could survive here, wherever 'here' was. It didn't matter, these people spoke the same language, she had enough resources to last as long as necessary and her magic was fully recovered. Maker, she could have woken up in Qunari lands, or the Tevinter Imperium. This was… well, it wasn't worse than those options, certainly.

She could do this. Hawke would survive, make it back to Kirkwall and find Varric and Fenris. She just desperately hoped they hadn't been transported somewhere crazy as well.

* * *

_A/N: please leave a review! I'm always looking to improve and critiques are welcomed :)_

_Next chapter: Soldiers and explosions. _


	3. Fire and Lightning

_A/N: I actually know where this story is going now! Huzah! I swear my stories direct themselves and just drag me along kicking and screaming to wherever they feel like going. _

_Disclaimer: Still not mine. _

* * *

**Chapter 3**

High above the slums, above the city perched on the plates, sat Shinra headquarters. And near the top of the corporation's monstrosity of a building, sat two first class Soldiers.

"The director keeps asking me to teach materia classes, as though I have time to waste on incompetent cadets. Don't they know you're the teacher?" asked Genesis, cradling his tea protectively while soaking in the morning sun.

"Yes but I've got an apprentice to worry about." said Angeal, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "And you do have the time; you haven't had a real mission in weeks." He settled on the couch across from his friend. "Besides, you are the material expert. Who better to ask?"

"Literally any one." was the unimpressed response. "I want a mission, not a rabid horde of teenagers."

Looking at his childhood friend, Angeal could tell something wasn't right. He knew that Genesis hadn't properly healed from the injury he received over a month ago and that alone was worrisome, but now something else looked off. The irritability was normal but Genesis was looking tired, ragged almost. Even his striking red hair seemed to have dulled.

His gaze drifted to the slight bulge of bandages on his friend's shoulder. Genesis had refused to talk about it.

"Have you heard anything about the Wutai negotiations?" Angeal asked abruptly.

"Yes actually, they aren't going according to plan. I imagine the ceasefire will be over before the years end. Or perhaps that is according to plan." he added darkly. "I assume that's why I've been put on standby. The Director won't let his best leave Midgar if there's a chance the war might start up again."

Angeal snorted. "And it's probably why he's asking you to help with training. That's what you get for being the best." He sounded amused. Genesis narrowed his eyes at him.

"You could always hunt monsters. It'd get you out of the building at least, and the slums need all the help they can get."

"I suppose." Genesis sighed, "We can't have monsters running amok. 'When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end…'"

Angeal tuned out the recital, having long since grown used to his friend's poetry obsession. He hoped Genesis _would_ go on a monster hunt; it would probably do him some good to see a little action again.

* * *

Hawke was lost. Not that she really knew where she was to begin with, but she was fairly certain that wherever she was now could somehow be deemed _more_ lost.

She had left Aerith's house and explored, taking the scenic route around the slums. So far she had passed more hovels than you could shake a templar at, a couple of frankly enormous gates, and a bustling market. A few pickpockets had tried targeting her but they were so obvious it was almost insulting. Varric would never have stood for it.

The strange lighting was everywhere. Odd glass bulbs with light somehow sealed inside them. Nothing felt magical, so she assumed it was just craftiness. She had heard tales of the dwarves creating all sorts of clever things but never on such a scale as this. It would have been fascinating if it wasn't all so dreary. Everything just felt miserable, like the alienage after a heavy downpour.

The area she found herself in now wasn't simply miserable, it was downright ominous. It looked abandoned but she could feel eyes following her.

It appeared to be some kind of debris field, filled with the rusted out remains of the giant metal carts she had seen people travelling in. Many had graffiti painted over them and their windows smashed in. There was no hustle and bustle here; she had left the crowds behind. There was either no good reason for anyone to come here or it was very dangerous. Her gut told her it was latter.

Hawke grinned and kept walking.

She knew she was being reckless. She had absolutely no reason for entering this place, other than the twitch she got from being inactive for too long. She didn't even have back up. Perhaps that was why she stubbornly kept walking. Her life was a series of absurd turns of fate, strung together by vicious battles. She was lost and alone in a world that wasn't hers; habit said it was time to kill something.

Except there didn't appear to be much to kill. A few rats had scampered about at her approach but there didn't seem to be anything worth killing. Not a stray darkspawn or even a giant spider. Hawke felt like she'd been ripped off.

She kept walking, letting her boots clang against the scrap metal on the ground. She was brimming with anticipation for a fight. She wasn't leaving till she got one.

An hour later she still hadn't found anything. What sort of city would let this fabulously ominous atmosphere go to waste? Misleading was what it was, like advertising a banquet and then expecting the guests to bring their own food. Hawke was not impressed- when suddenly a large and bizarre creature violently barrelled past her. She barely leapt out of the way in time.

A few yards away it turned and faced her. It looked like a revenant merged with a horse and cart. Its single red eye rested on her, empty and lifeless. An eligor, as she would later find out.

Hawke wasted no time and sent off a quick lightning spell. The familiar weight of her staff sat comfortably in her hands as she manoeuvred into a better position. The eligor recovered from her attack and returned fire.

She felt a pull of magic and hastily summoned a barrier. What felt like a sleep spell bounced off her arcane shield. Gathering her strength Hawke cast Maker's Fist. The eligor tried to dodge but wasn't fast enough. The spell swept the creature up into the air over half a dozen metres, and then slammed it violently back onto the ground. The crash of its impact echoed off the metal structures around them.

Chuckling lightly (Hawke had always been amused by that attack), she approached the broken form. It had sustained a lot of damage; limbs she couldn't name but thought looked important were dangling at odd angles. Better safe than sorry though, it might just be unconscious.

She was concentrating on casting a firestorm, a small one ought to do, just enough to encompass the body when she was hit with a blow.

It wasn't a physical hit, though it may as well have been. The eligor had cast silence; Hawke could feel her magic sap away. That was not on.

She rolled out of the way just as it threw a concentrated beam of red light at her. Outraged at having her magic blocked Hawke drew her daggers and promised painful retribution. They were viciously curved blades, gifts from Isabella. The pirate had spent years training Hawke, "_we can't have you helpless whenever some Templar blocks your magic, now can we_?" she had said.

Well, it was time to make Isabella proud.

She darted in and kicked it in the knee, grinning madly at the horrid crunch. Slinking back around the creature, she disappeared into the shadows, only to jump out and stab both daggers into its back. The eligor screeched and knocked her back. Ignoring its wounds it threw the beam of cutting light around in a blind rage.

Hawke was kept on the defensive. Dodging and rolling, she could see the damage the beam was doing to solid metal; she had no intention of taking a hit. Dammit, if only her magic would come back already she could finish this menace with a single roaring firestorm. She could already feel it trickling back into her mind but still not enough for a worthwhile attack.

Just as she was getting ready to strike again the creature caught on fire, seemingly at random.

That was convenient. If a little unlikely.

Stepping out from behind the melting wreck of the eligor was a man with red hair, wearing a red leather coat, and brandishing an equally red sword. Hawke had the sneaking suspicion that maybe, just maybe, he liked the colour red. Or perhaps he was hilariously colour blind.

Saving such mockery for later, she sheathed her daggers.

"Thanks." she had wanted to finish the fight herself, but she appreciated the help nonetheless.

Her magic felt about half restored now. She hoped she wouldn't have to fight the strange red man but kept a gravity spell on the back burner just in case.

* * *

Genesis didn't know what to think of the woman in front of him. He had heard reports of an eligor in the area and assumed it was the most interesting fight he was likely to find down here.

He had finally found the creature, but someone else had found it first apparently. Now she was leaping in and out of the shadows brandishing twin daggers.

Unacceptable.

This was his kill. The woman engaging it seemed to know what she was doing but Genesis hadn't trekked all the way down here to watch someone else kill an eligor.

He drew his sword and unleashed a powerful fire spell, finishing the creature where it stood. He stepped forward into the dim light and surveyed the woman. He stubbornly ignored the painful twinge in his shoulder.

She was heavily armoured for a civilian, with angular plate armour along her right arm and over her boots. Her right hand was encased in a vicious looking gauntlet. The style was strange and unlike any armour he was familiar with. And was that chainmail peeking out from under her leather tunic? Who wore chainmail? He assumed there was materia in the staff on her back as he could feel the tension of magic in the air. She stood tall with short black hair flicking about an expressive and blood splattered face.

"Thanks." she nodded at him.

He bowed magnanimously. "My pleasure, I assure you." and he almost meant it. "It is my duty to protect civilians."

"My condolences." she smirked at him, before bending down to examine the smoking carcass.

No amount of dry humour would make up for depriving him of a fight, but he was vaguely curious. "Might I ask your name?" he said.

"Hawke." she started searching the body. "And you are?"

"Genesis Rhapsodos- What on gaia are you doing?"

"Nice to meet you too. I'm looting. You don't search your kills?"

"That is my kill." he replied coolly. He wouldn't have picked her for a scavenger yet she was sifting through the charred remains of a smoking carcass as though it was all perfectly normal.

"You might have dealt the last blow, but I did all the legwork. Aha!" She brandished a vial smudged with ash. "Now what exactly is this?" she asked, eyeing it curiously.

"It's an ether, obviously. And you are fortunate I stepped in or you might have spent hours 'doing the legwork' as you put it."

She scoffed. He had saved her and she had the nerve to make light of it. Given her reaction to his name, or lack thereof, she either didn't know who he was or just didn't care. He disliked her already.

She looked curiously at him, before uncorking the vial and sniffing experimentally. Her eyes sparkled and her mouth broke out in an alarming grin. She pocketed it and stood.

"Well! Thank you for your assistance, Ser Rhapsodos." She bowed low in a distinctly mocking fashion. "Perhaps I'll see you around."

"Wait a minute," he began, stepping forward, "You-" blinding pain hit him. Dammit, not now! His vision swam, was he still standing? He couldn't tell, pain overrode everything and his consciousness left him.

* * *

Well, that was unexpected. The red man, Genesis as he called himself, had been on the verge of making a demand (Hawke would know that look anywhere), when he winced and then promptly passed out.

Not entirely sure what to make of the situation, Hawke prodded him. No reaction. He did look to be in a fair amount of pain, going by the frozen grimace on his face.

Her practised eye recognized the bulge of a bandage on his right shoulder. Was that the problem? Why would a shoulder wound make someone pass out like that? He had looked perfectly fine seconds before.

She did technically owe him one she supposed. Pulling back the wrappings she saw a vicious wound. Well, that explained the fainting. It wasn't particularly deep but it looked dangerously infected, the skin was discoloured with blackened veins bulging around it. What sort of lunatic would go gallivanting about with such a serious wound? And so close to major arteries!

Hawke knew she wasn't the most proficient healer. Her talents ran more to lightening, Bethany had been the healer, and then later Anders. However she wasn't completely incompetent. She had helped in the Dark town clinic more times than she could count, and if anyone got hurt when Anders wasn't around then she was the de-facto healer.

She focused on the wound. Redirecting her mana to it, the colour returned to his skin and it slowly closed- but there was something else. Deep inside there was something corrupting and malevolent wrapped tightly around his very being. It felt almost like a part of him, even as it slowly tore him apart. It reminded Hawke of what she felt in Anders, or Carver, the day he was infected by a darkspawn.

Was this man a grey warden? He didn't look like one. This corruption didn't feel exactly like the taint of the darkspawn, but it was no less insidious.

Nobody could heal corruption of this level, not even the grey wardens, certainly not Hawke.

He looked to be stirring. Hawke stood and retreated. Carefully watching her step she started picking her way through the rubble. She wished she could do more to help him, she wouldn't wish the taint on anybody. Well, not on many people anyway.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm looking to improve my writing and critiques are greatly appreciated :)_

_Next time: Everything is Hawke's fault. _


	4. One Step Forward

_A/N: A generous amount of exposition, but it's all necessary I swear. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. _

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Hawke had intended to pick a few pockets and buy a night at a cheap inn. Perhaps she would even visit a pub and talk to any intriguing looking strangers. It was her tried and true method for gathering both information and funny looks. Then she would start to put together a plan, maybe look into getting some work, and be one step closer to finding her way home.

None of that happened.

Instead she ran into Aerith again. The teenager was being swarmed by a group of monsters and was obviously wounded. Hawke had sighed at how typical it all was and then dished out lightning strikes liberally.

Now she was back in the house filled with flowers. Aerith had offered her a room for the night before retiring for the evening. Now Hawke was trying not to flinch under the glare of the mother, Elmyra. She might face down charging ogres on a regular basis, but something about a mother's 'I'm-so-disappointed-in-you stare' made her feel like a little girl in pigtails again. She didn't even know this woman! And she had just saved Aerith from a swarm of monsters.

Elmyra sat down across from her at the kitchen table, smoothing out her apron and the long green dress beneath it. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun, wisps of a fringe edging a face lined by stress.

"Aerith told me that you scolded her for healing you this morning." the older woman said in a carefully neutral tone. "She said that you know what she is and that you are the same."

Hawke's store of amassed information was pitifully underwhelming. From what she had gathered, Aerith was half human and half 'Cetra', which sounded a lot like a race of mages. Only their magic wasn't quite the same as Hawke's, there had been no mention of demons. If anything it reminded Hawke of the Dalish elves, they were apparently in tune with nature and the world itself but began to die out when the humans arrived. Aerith was the last of the Cetra and living in hiding.

"I am human, if that's what you're asking." said Hawke. "But I know that your daughter has a connection to the fade- uh, planet. I have something similar."

Elmyra narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Hawke sighed and summoned a blue mage light, the wispy ball of mana floating in her hand and then dispersing when she closed her fist.

The older woman lowered her head. "She went after you, when you left this morning. She said it was because you might get lost, but it wasn't really." Elmyra fixed her eyes on Hawke, "Aerith knows she's different, but she's always wanted just to fit in, to be normal. She may have only met you this morning but in her eyes you are one of her kind."

Hawke was reminded of Bethany. Darling, sweet, Bethany; who only ever wanted to be normal. She had been so ashamed of being a mage, as though it were somehow her fault that they had to hide from the Templars. Bethany had looked up to her, had always trusted that her big sister would protect her. It might have been almost nine years since Bethany's death but the loss still hurt to think about. To remember her mother, tears streaming down her face, asking how she could have let this happen…

Elmyra cleared her throat. "I don't know who you are or why you're here. But I don't want my daughter getting into danger at the example of a strange woman she's only just met."

"My name is Hawke. I'm a mercenary, or an adventurer maybe. I'm new to Midgar."

The woman in front of her just wanted to protect her family. Hawke could respect that.

"I didn't mean to end up at your house or endanger Aerith. I know it must look bad, her following me and then being brought back covered in blood, but I assure you very little of it was hers."

It occurred to Hawke that she wasn't helping her cause. How did Varric make it look so easy? Had it been anything else she wouldn't have minded Elmyra thinking it was her fault. After all Hawke was quite used to everything being her fault, but a desperate mother asking her how she could let her little mage girl get hurt was too close to home. Some things you just couldn't leave behind.

"I probably shouldn't have told her that I'm a mage, but I was a little out of sorts at the time." continued Hawke. "When I saw her being attacked I did everything I could. I'm sorry she was hurt." The reasonable part of her mind said that this wasn't really her business and the best course of action was a swift exit. "I'll leave early or now if you like, so that she can't follow me again. Though I think you should find someone to protect your daughter, or at the very least someone to teach her how to use her own magic. An untrained mage is a danger to themselves."

Elmyra eyed the Hawke's staff leaning against the wall, its blade glinting in the dim kitchen light.

"You're a mercenary?" the older woman finally asked. "And a… a mage, you called it?" Her eyes were calculating. Her tone said she was about to ask for something.

Hawke's internal 'I'm-about-to-make-a-terrible-decision' alarm started clanging.

After peppering her with enough questions to ensure she wasn't a psychopath or a wanted criminal (_not on this world, _thought Hawke) Elmyra finally made her request.

She wanted Hawke to be Aerith's bodyguard. Hawke didn't have much else to do.

They talked on, eventually coming to an agreement. Elmyra would provide food and lodgings and in return Hawke would protect Aerith and teach her how to use her powers, assuming her own knowledge turned out to be compatible. Most importantly, she would ensure that the tyrannical Shinra didn't steal the young mage away.

Hawke just knew that somewhere Anders would be looking very smug.

* * *

Genesis looked out across Midgar. The city stretched out, far below the expansive windows of his office, everything bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon.

He had just received the latest lab results from Hollander. His body's degradation marched on, though it appeared to have been stalled, while his shoulder was now completely healed. Hollander couldn't understand it. No potions, materia, or even traditional medicine had brought the slightest improvement to the wound. Now there was barely a scar.

To Genesis' endless vexation, he couldn't even remember how it had happened. One minute he was talking to a woman in the train graveyard, the next he was waking up to find his unhealable wound had been healed.

"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess…" he recited to himself. As much as he appreciated this particular gift, the mystery he would not stand for.

He narrowed his eyes at the city beneath him. Somewhere under that giant metal plate was the woman who had fixed his shoulder and then bolted before he could even thank her, let alone interrogate her as he wanted to. He needed to know how she did it and what it would take to heal him completely. Hollander had his own theories, but the ramblings about clones and copies no longer seemed plausible to Genesis. In nothing more than a few short minutes someone had healed the pain he had suffered for months, while Hollander had spent that time floundering amidst old notes and fragmented theories.

Genesis' estimation of the portly scientist was quickly dropping. After all, if Hollander had been competent Genesis' body wouldn't be falling to pieces in the first place. No, the answer to this puzzle wasn't going to come from Shinra or its lackeys. He should have seen that from the beginning.

All he had was a name: Hawke. It wasn't much, but it would suffice. If he truly became desperate he might even ask the assistance of the Turks. They need not know why he wanted to find her, though he would prefer to keep his investigation away from Shinra's vicious little pawns.

Speaking of Shinra's pawns, he was supposed to meet Sephiroth and Angeal in the general's office soon. Perhaps he ought to mention that his wound had healed. Maybe then Angeal would stop giving him worried looks whenever he thought Genesis wasn't looking.

Angeal didn't realise yet but it was only a matter of time before his own body began to degrade. He didn't know that the weakness he saw in Genesis was his own inevitable end, the end that Shinra had damned the both of them to.

Not if Genesis found Hawke again.

He _would _find the answers. He would save his friend and himself, no matter what it took. Even if he had to level Midgar itself, he would buy them both healing.

He would be the hero.

* * *

Hawke was an idiot.

What had she been thinking? 'Sure I'll babysit your teenager!' How on Thedas did she ever think that was a good idea?

She had been in Midgar for over a week. She had spent the majority of the time either 'guarding' Aerith, which amounted to watching her garden in a dilapidated chantry (here they were called 'churches' apparently), or training the girl.

The guarding was peaceful. Hawke didn't remember how to be peaceful, so their time was filled with training.

There wasn't anything inherently wrong with the situation; Aerith was polite, respectful, and competent with the makings of a very powerful mage. Hawke had started with some basic healing spells. It was how her father taught her, and how she taught Bethany. Aerith picked it up immediately. She was obviously a budding spirit healer, just as Bethany had been. She liked helping people, just as Bethany had. Hawke almost resented her for it. She didn't want to be reminded of the sister she had failed, the sister she had never really mourned because there were darkspawn everywhere and then a dragon and then Kirkwall's locked gates.

When they weren't training, Aerith's charming innocence as she potted about with her flowers had Hawke doing everything she could to not think about Merrill. It was a shame because Aerith was lovely, and under any other circumstances Hawke was sure she'd enjoy spending the time with her.

The whole endeavour was far more emotionally draining that Hawke had anticipated. She wasn't usually this sensitive. Hopefully it wouldn't last.

Hawke kept reminding herself not to see other people in Aerith. She did need that right now, on top of everything that had happened at the gallows- which she still wasn't thinking about. It occurred to Hawke that her tendency to use survival as an excuse to not think about her loses was one meltdown away from backfiring terribly. It was unfair on Aerith, who was obviously thrilled about the whole situation. She had looked so relieved at having someone to talk to about the voices she heard, someone who didn't think her powers were scary.

The voices Aerith was born hearing seemingly came from the planet itself. She admitted it with a lot of hesitance, obviously never having told anyone other than Elmyra. Hawke asked what the planet said about her. Apparently it didn't know what to make of her but thought she made a nice addition anyway. Hawke had snorted and then talked Aerith through the techniques for ignoring constant mental bombardment and what to do if she met any malicious spirits in the life stream.

Despite being officially the teacher, Hawke was learning a lot as well.

This place, this world, it was insane. Everything was so complicated nobody actually knew how any of it worked. No one could tell her how a light bulb worked, despite there being hundreds of the things everywhere. No one knew how magic (you could call it 'mako' as much as you liked, Hawke knew magic when she felt it) was drilled up from the ground, processed into not magic, and then used to fuel everything.

Aerith had gone on to show her a world map. She assured Hawke that if you continued beyond the right edge of the map you just wound up on the left edge again. Wherever Thedas was, she wouldn't be sailing there. Magic had made this problem, hopefully magic could fix it.

Then there was Shinra; the business that ran the world. They pumped their soldiers full of mako, renamed them SOLDIERS, and promptly started conquering everyone. It was as though the Templars had trained the mages into warriors and then went invading, which was actually a wasted opportunity now that she thought about it.

Apparently Hawke had even met one of these SOLDIERs, one of the most famous ones in fact. First Class Soldier Genesis Rhapsodos, or 'the warrior poet' according to some ridiculous posters (_Varric would just love this _Hawke thought) was one of Shinra's finest. She should have guessed; Genesis definitely had the air of someone who thought himself rather fabulous. He would do wonderfully in Orlais.

On the first couple of days Hawke had felt as though they were being watched. Their spectator was obviously very skilled; it had taken Hawke three days to catch a glimpse of them. If she hadn't spent the last four years on the Antivan Crows' hit list she never would have noticed the unassuming dark blue suit perched on one of the nearby roofs. Aerith had said they were friends from Shinra, which struck Hawke as highly unlikely. Since it was obvious the girl knew they were there and they didn't appear to be threatening Hawke made a point of waving obnoxiously to the next one she saw. The messy looking red head waved right back. His bald partner was not amused.

Right now Hawke was alone again. She had dropped Aerith off at the house and left after a quick dinner. The house was starting to feel stifling again. After nearly a decade of Varric and Isabela's irreverence, spending an entire week with an innocent teenager was something of a shock.

It was a Thursday evening and years of tradition said she was supposed to be down at the Hanged Man with her friends. As neither her friends nor the Hanged Man had appeared she would simply have to make do.

Hawke wove her way through the slums, looking for a place she had spotted earlier.

The Fat Chocobo. As respectably seedy an alehouse as she could ask for. A rusty old sign edged with blown out lights proudly displayed the name, a picture of a fat chicken thing wearing a funny hat was dangling underneath the letters. The sounds of spirited revelry accompanied by a jaunty tune could be heard from outside. Hawke smiled broadly and pushed the door open.

She was met with a filthy and poorly lit pub reeking of beer and vomit. It felt a little like home.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review, I'm looking to improve my writing so any and all critiques are welcomed :)_

_This may feel like it's not going anywhere but trust me it is. This one was mostly filler, but next time there'll be dialogue and everything! __  
_

_Next Time: Spies and Drunkards. _


	5. Two Steps Sideways

_A/N: This chapter didn't want me to write it. I did anyway, but it kicked and screamed every step of the way. It might show. _

_Disclaimer: None of it is mine. _

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Aerith watched from the Kitchen as Hawke left the house. She was washing the dishes from dinner while Elmyra read a book in the small living room. Dunking her hands in the warm soapy water felt so relaxing after a week of forcing magic through her fingers, digits more used to weeding gardens than wielding their own power. It was draining in a way she wasn't used to; her body could still be bursting with energy while her mind was completely exhausted.

How Hawke could to cast so many complicated spells so casually was a mystery to Aerith. But then, almost everything about Hawke was a mystery to Aerith.

She hadn't thought it particularly odd finding an unconscious person outside her house; there were all sorts of unconscious people in the slums. The planet however, seemed to be very agitated about it. When she had first spoken to Hawke, Aerith could feel the planet's confusion. The tangled murmurs had eventually condensed into one word: Outsider.

That Hawke had felt it (though apparently not heard it), was enough to make Aerith both very confused and very excited. Some part of her had always been afraid that the voices she heard weren't really the planet, that maybe she was just crazy. Sometimes, after hearing the things whispered by the life stream, she wished she was crazy. Now there was no denying it, somebody else could also feel the planet fluttering about them all.

But how was that possible? She knew she was the last Ancient. It was why Shinra was so interested in her, why she had spent the first seven years of her life trapped in a lab. Who was this woman? This clearly human lady who both felt and called upon the life stream with the experience of a master, but who the planet didn't recognize? It didn't make any sense. The planet agreed.

Talking to Hawke hadn't made it any clearer.

Hawke knew so many strange things. Sometimes it made Aerith laugh, like the warning about buying glamour charms ("Your enemies are supposed to be too distracted to attack you, but I always get distracted while trying to put it on!"). Other times, the things Hawke knew scared her. Her warnings about making deals with spirits had not been half hearted. Aerith asked if she had ever seen someone make a deal like that. Hawke's smile had become very forced before she changed the subject.

For the first time in her life Aerith noticed how much she relied on the voice of the planet. She had always found it easy to understand people, to see what they were suffering under and what they hid from the world. It was why she had so few friends, seeing the burdens and the hidden meaning beneath every word was too overwhelming for her.

With Hawke however, she couldn't see anything. All she saw was the smiling face and the twirling staff. The planet couldn't see inside Hawke and so had nothing to share. When asked about it Hawke had laughed and said that the planet was far too nosey for her tastes. That left Aerith a little bewildered. Was this how everyone else felt? How did they make friends when they couldn't hear what was really being said? Hawke's face may have been expressive but Aerith understood so very little of the emotions flittering across it. It was frustrating, this mysterious woman knew so much and Aerith didn't know how to get close to her.

Even without the aid of the planet however there were things Aerith noticed. Wherever Hawke was from she desperately wanted to get back, but at the same time she seemed to be dreading it. Many of Aerith's questions she would laugh off, but sometimes Hawke would wince and abruptly change the subject. Aerith thought that something really bad must have happened. It must have been awful to make someone like Hawke, who could laugh about being hit with fireballs, actually flinch.

Even stranger though were the things that Hawke didn't know. Aerith had never thought herself an expert on anything (except maybe flowers) but on some subjects she knew so much more than the older woman it was weird.

She didn't know what phones were, she was mystified by simple light bulbs, and the very idea of mako seemed ridiculous to Hawke.

Aerith had thought she was joking when Hawke asked what Shinra was.

She was very concerned when she realised the question was sincere.

Now, a week after their training had begun, Aerith knew so much more about her own powers, and had so many questions about things she had never even thought about.

She couldn't stop thinking about the first clear word the planet had whispered about Hawke.

Outsider.

Hawke didn't seem to be a threat, and the planet was even more confused by that. Aerith had picked up some vague whispers about a calamity and weapons, but none of it made any sense to the girl. Finally the planet seemed to calm down a little. Now it was more curious than confused. Hawke was no longer Outsider, but Visitor. Aerith was determined to be a good host. For all of Hawke's oddities Aerith liked the woman. She wanted to be her friend.

None of these things Aerith told Elmyra.

When asked she told her Mother about the healing spells she was learning. The healing she had cast over Hawke when she first found her was apparently very basic. After a lot of theory Hawke had lead her out to the streets for practise, where she had Aerith healing children who hurt themselves playing. When asked they said she was just levelling up her materia.

Aerith had asked her if she was going to learn how to defend herself beyond a simple spirit bolt. Hawke had said she wouldn't teach her how to fight until she could damn near resurrect someone.

Aerith didn't mind at all. Healing was a good, useful skill, and it made everyone so happy. It even worked on bruised flower petals as she had been delighted to discover. She didn't really need to fight; after all, she already had a bodyguard.

* * *

Hawke scrutinized her opposition over her cards. For all his leering the dishevelled red head had one hell of a poker face.

The Fat Chocobo had turned out to be a delightful mess of a pub. The beer wasn't too bad (though obviously watered down), and the patrons were chiefly happy, if rowdy, drunks.

Hawke had been halfway through her second drink when she felt a hand at her pocket. Reaching back she caught the arm and dragged the attached person into view.

She was met with a messy red head in a crumpled dark blue suit. He didn't seem at all bothered at being caught and shot her a sly grin. She recognised him as the spy who had waved back at her while observing her and Aerith.

"Hello!" Hawke greeted merrily, depositing him on the bar stool next to her. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"Just a couple of drinks yo." he drawled, spinning on the stool to face the rest of the pub, his back and elbows resting casually on the bar.

"You smell as though you've already found them." said Hawke, keeping her eye on him. He had just tried to pick her pocket after all.

"Eh, could always do with a couple more." he said with a shrug, "So, new to Midgar, huh?"

"What gave me away?"

"The accent. Nobody sounds that fancy in the slums. You gotta be from, what, Banora?"

"You can't tell? You need to get out more." If he couldn't already spot a Fereldan accent then he didn't need to, as far as she was concerned.

He signalled the bartender who slid him a beer. Hawke was pretty sure drinking with this guy was a terrible idea, but ale was always better with company and besides, she could outdrink an alcoholic dwarf.

The two got along like a house on fire.

He called himself Reno and he was as irreverent and brazen as Hawke could ask for_. Isabella would love this guy_, she thought_. _

It hadn't taken long for them to set up an impromptu card game, something the locals called 'poker'. It turned out to be surprisingly similar to diamondback and Hawke was just as hopeless at it. Still, she might play terribly but she could cheat with the best of them. Clearly the same could be said for Reno, except for the not playing well part.

They had been playing for quite some time by now, Hawke had no idea how many drinks' she'd been through or how many games she'd lost. Determined to regain some of her tattered pride, she looked for cracks in Reno's mask.

The goggles resting on his forehead kept the majority of his hair from falling in his face, though a few unruly strands fell wherever they damn well pleased. He had a red line under each eye following his cheek bones. Whether they were scars, tattoos, or just hopelessly misapplied eyeliner Hawke couldn't say. He wasn't as young as she had first assumed. His lanky body and the slouching demeanour gave the impression of a lazy youth, the vibrant and out of control hair completing the look. Something about him contradicted that though, Hawke couldn't put her finger on it, but she suspected that for all his lazy sprawling he wasn't a push over.

"So Babe, are all those blood stains from monsters or am I gonna end up in a dumpster after in this?" Reno asked, idly rearranging his cards.

"Well that depends on how you define monsters, but I'll only throw you in a dumpster if you ask nicely." said Hawke. She had scrubbed her tunic endlessly but the stains had barely faded.

"Can't see any of the slum dwellers going after you." Reno said casually. Hawke heard the underlying question, but where that blood came from wasn't something she was going to think about today.

"Yeah, that's why I carry a big stick around. Ran into a SOLDIER who seemed to think I was in desperate need of rescuing though but I suppose they see everyone that way."

"What, some bored little recruit trying to save the damsel in distress?" he asked with a smirk.

"A first class apparently, ginger bastard stole my kill. Still, saved me on time I guess."

"Ginger…" He gave her an odd look "Rhapsodos stole your kill?" he sounded sceptical.

"Apparently, or at least somebody claiming to be him who is equally bad at colour co-ordination."

Reno snorted "Tell him that."

"Are you sure he's not just colour blind?" Reno choked on his drink while Hawke continued, "He thought his coat was a rich forest green and nobody had the heart to tell him otherwise."

"Maybe I'll ask him, next time I'm feeling suicidal." He finished off his beer. "So, you were so offended by Rhapsodos you decided to hide in the church huh?"

"Pretty much. The flowers have much better fashion sense." Hawke said airily, focusing on her cards.

"They even come with a free teenager."

"Fancy that." She said, her somewhat inebriated mind thought he might be getting at something.

"She's not as pretty as you though." he replied, his tone mocking.

"Hardly her fault."

"True. She seems friendly enough."

"You'd think someone from the slums would know better."

"Yeah, she took you in quick enough." He was watching her intently.

"A bad call do you think?" Hawke asked.

"You tell me." His tone was no longer joking. Ah. So that's what this was about.

"I've been hired to do a job." Hawke said, keeping her tone light "The only threat I pose to her is the occasional blood splatter."

"Better be careful then. Blood has a way of getting on everything." he said, his voice still cold and empty. "And it doesn't wash out ya know. But I guess you know all about that."

Hawke heard the threat. She wasn't intimidated but she knew the value of letting the top dog bark a bit. She didn't know how important Reno was to Shinra (though she assumed not very) and it was far too soon to be stepping on toes.

"Yeah, I do know. I think I've collected enough blood stains." she was holding a losing hand anyway.

The game ended, Hawke paid her tab.

"Interesting game," she said to Reno, squeezing passed him on her way out "Perhaps I'll get better with a little practise."

He smirked "You're not bad, for a first timer."

Hawke gave him a half-hearted smile and left.

* * *

Reno stayed seated, staring at his empty glass. He didn't look up until his boss sat down across from him.

"Well?" Tseng asked, as business like as always.

"We don't have to worry."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. She's not going to get in the way if things change. As is she'll probably just make our job easier."

"Did you find out where she's from?"

"She wouldn't say. Can't spot the accent." Reno was glaring at his empty glass again.

"You didn't check her ID?" Tseng asked.

"Nope, she's quick I'll give her that. She noticed me trying to pick her pocket." Reno sounded almost amused.

"Hm. Alright, I'll expect your full report tomorrow morning."

They both stood. Tseng made a swift exit. Reno's hand went to his pocket as he went to pay his bill, only to find his wallet missing.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm looking to improve my writing and all critiques are welcomed :)_

_Next time: the Fade (or is it?) _


	6. Unfortunate Truths

_A/N: Given that I'm more familiar with Dragon Age lore and that ff7 can be a bit stingy in its explanations for things, Dragon Age magical rules take precedence. Any areas where the two worlds don't blend seamlessly will be simply duct-taped together. This chapter is mostly duct tape. _

_Also: Thanks to everyone who has left a review! Your opinions are greatly appreciated :)_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

**Chapter 6**

As a mage, Hawke knew that sleeping wasn't as straight forward as it probably ought to be.

When you hit the sack at the end of the day you might drift into oblivion like a normal person and wake up the next day energized and ready to slay endless hordes of spiders. Alternatively, you might enter the Fade and spend the night arguing with emotionally manipulative demons who wanted to eat your soul. Facing literal demons that knew all your secrets and were just waiting to use them against you on a regular basis was just one of the inescapable quirks of being a mage.

Tonight was the first time Hawke had entered the fade since leaving Thedas. Every other night she had slept peacefully with no dreams. Hawke theorized it was because the veil felt so ragged and abused in Gaia. According to Aerith it was due to the mako reactors, violently churning up the lifestream. Even in Kirkwall, where the veil was infamously thin after millennia of slaughter and forbidden magic, the fade wasn't as tattered as it was in Midgar. Hawke was struck by how inconsistent it was here; in some places the veil was as delicate as Orlesian silk, while in others it was as thick and impenetrable as castle walls.

As sleep had taken her she had finally crossed over into the fade. She felt herself arriving in the spiritual realm and smiled at the familiar sensation. She certainly didn't relish the nightly temptations but for her it was normal and an integral part of who she was.

She looked around only to see that this was not normal.

The ground wasn't the usual dirt mounds of the fade Hawke was used to. Here the ground was red clay, interrupted by curving white pillars rising up out of the ground at various angles. The floating islands reminded her of the carcasses of a great beast, the last of its weathered flesh stubbornly clinging to bleached bones. Even the air was different; it was a faint green that swirled and about. It was completely silent.

Hawke explored the odd terrain and found nothing. The pillars on their floating islands were all empty. It felt wrong. Hawke was aware that there were no real mages in Gaia, but she hadn't expected the fade to be so barren. There weren't any demons, not even the odd fade spirit just minding its own business. It was just… vacant.

Hawke didn't like it.

Experience had taught Hawke that anomalies within the fade were not a good thing. Sometimes oddities were simply the result of an unusually talented mage but unusually cunning predators were guaranteed to follow. The boy Feynriel stuck out in Hawke's mind; born with the ancient and long forgotten ability to shape the Fade itself, he was tormented by some of the most powerful demons Hawke had ever seen.

Far more often peculiarities were simply the work of demons. In any other context Hawke loved the wild and unexpected nature of life, but when it came to magic anything outside of the status quo was almost always a disaster in the making. It was a lesson she wished she had learnt sooner, as images of a mirror and a Dalish campsite dripping with blood passed through her mind. Life was not a gentle teacher.

Eventually Hawke came across a washed out version of Aerith's house. It was the only real landmark she had seen in the otherwise empty realm. However since the house was here that meant that there was at least one other person in this strange place. Hawke entered and made her way upstairs. The interior was the typical washed out version of life that was apparently common to every corner of the Fade.

She reached the second level only to pause in shock.

Rather than the bland corridor leading to three bedrooms and a bathroom Hawke was in an endless field of flowers. There was no sky, just an endless expanse of white. The Fade had always operated on its own terms, normal rules didn't apply here and the laws of physics were humble suggestions at best. This, however, was not right.

If there was one truth that could be counted on in the Fade it was the Black city. No matter where you were or how many demons were eating your soul, the Black city was always visible. Always within sight but never within reach, if the chantry was to be believed it was the once golden seat of the Maker forever tarnished by the ancient Magisters of Tevinter. While it had just dawned on Hawke that she hadn't been able to see the city from outside the house either, this white void made it unescapably obvious. Hawke didn't know what to make of that revelation.

"Hello Hawke!"

A few meters away Aerith was crouched amidst the flowers, delicately tending to a blooming lily. She looked perfectly at home.

"Hello Aerith," Hawke wasn't surprised to find Aerith surrounded by endless flowers, it was practically a given, even if the obsession struck Hawke as rather odd.

"Do you really spend every night gardening? After gardening all day in the church?"

Aerith smiled up at her "I've been too busy healing to properly tend to the flowers. They were missing me." she said lightly. "Why, what do you usually do here?"

"I'm usually dealing with uninvited guests. I'm quite popular here you see; I wouldn't have time to garden even if I wanted to." Hawke scrutinized the air. There really wasn't anything here, it was just endless nothing. An airy, well lit expanse of nothing.

"Does it always look like this?" That it was Aerith surrounded by this anomaly made Hawke uneasy.

"Hmm? The flowers? They've grown here for as long as I remember. Is this the Fade you mentioned?"

"Yes, this is the Fade. It doesn't usually look like this though. There are usually more… you know, things." Hawke gestured at the vast whiteness.

Aerith giggled softly "There's a trap-door under that patch of green lilies over there. It leads back to the house."

"I've never seen any place in the Fade like this before." The Fade usually took forms familiar to you, or at least, your mind chose to see it in familiar forms.

"I thought the flowers might like it."

"You… what?"

"The flowers don't grow so well outside, there isn't enough light."

"So you brought the flowers here?"

Aerith shook her head "No silly! I brought the light here. It used to be cold and green, it wasn't bright enough. The flowers have been so much happier since."

Oh.

Oh dear.

"How exactly did you do that, Aerith?" Hawke asked slowly, hoping this wasn't what it so obviously was.

"How? Oh, are you testing me?" Aerith giggled and then bit her lip. "Well, I wanted to see the sky at first. Since… I've never seen the sky. Outside, when I'm awake I mean. When I realised I was dreaming I thought maybe I could make the sky here, the way I imagined it." She looked around at the bright void, "It didn't work very well; I managed to get rid of the green but I didn't know what to replace it with. I suppose I don't really know what the sky is meant to look like. The Flower's seem to like this though."

Hawke had wanted to know what exactly the last Cetra was. Now she knew.

Aerith was a Dreamer, a Somniari, a fade-shaper like the Ancient Elves of Arlathan. Without the least bit of training she had reshaped the sky on a whim and considered it a failure. She was clearly far more powerful than Feynriel, and she was looking to Hawke for guidance.

Hawke sat down abruptly. Why did life keep throwing these things at her?

"At least the flowers are happy." Hawke said lightly, lying down amongst the blossoms. Aerith frowned.

"Hawke, you're crushing the lilies."

* * *

The next morning Hawke and Aerith returned to the church. They were taking a few days off training so that Aerith could recover a little and internalize what she had learnt so far. The girl's potential might be endless but the same could not yet be said of her stamina.

Reno was standing outside the church looking distinctly Not Impressed. Hawke threw him his wallet and thanked him for the drinks. The muttering red head wandered off and Hawke dumped a bulky bag of books on the first pew. They had ventured to the closest library (which wasn't very close at all) and rented everything they could find on the Cetra.

Hawke had never been much of a scholar but if she was to help Aerith then she would need more information. She wished she still had that book Keeper Marethari had given about the last Dalish Dreamers. Hawke was no fade-shaper herself but she had met the only other living one and she knew that such skilled shouldn't be left untrained. Feynriel had almost crumbled under the weight of his own abilities; Hawke wouldn't let that happen to Aerith.

She remembered the Dalish Keeper saying that very few fade-shapers survived until adulthood. Powerful demons were drawn to them like Orlesians to silky pantaloons.

Evidence suggested that maybe there were no demons in Gaia, but Hawke wasn't going to take that risk. Maybe she was being paranoid, less or even no demons were a blessing she should be rejoicing over. Why was she complaining? Was it fair to spread her paranoia to Aerith?

But it only took one demon to make an abomination.

She couldn't let that go. Until she had absolute, irrefutable evidence that Gaia held not one single demon, she would remain vigilant. And she would teach Aerith to do the same. When did she start sounding so much like Fenris?

Amidst the endless notes and diagrams Hawke also hoped there might be some mention of Thedas. Or if not Thedas itself then at least some small reference to the things she was familiar with, she'd settle for even a mention of the Qunari at this point. No matter how much she denied it, Hawke was getting homesick.

So Aerith gardened and Hawke studied. At lunch she dropped Aerith back at the house and went monster hunting. It was enough to keep the action starved part of her sated and it paid rather well too. In the afternoon she had Aerith practise her healing again.

It was a pattern they would follow for the next few months. At the end of the week Hawke ran into Reno at the Fat Chocobo. She ended up playing cards with him again, and found that for all his obnoxious attitude and potentially very dangerous connections he made for a decent drinking buddy. He told the most outrageous stories and she did that same. He never spoke of Shinra and Hawke never mentioned Aerith. After a few weeks they established an unexpected sort of camaraderie. They would drink, gamble and pick each other's pockets, for conversation they told nothing but lies and neither believed anything. It was perfectly relaxing as far as Hawke was concerned.

Eventually rumours reached below the plate of the war Shinra was again fighting on foreign soil. The ceasefire had ended and troops were redeployed. Whispers of a SOLDIER rebellion spread. But then the war ended and the whispers were declared false. Shinra plastered the city with huge posters of the SOLDIER heroes who had crushed the Wutai threat, boldly declaring their victory before the entire world. Atop the plate there were parades and parties and fireworks as Shinra patted itself on the back.

Beneath the plate, the slums were a just a little more drunk than usual.

* * *

Hawke crossed the veil again.

She was far more used to this corner of the Fade now, so much so that it had become rather boring. Aerith's white void of flowers was no more interesting, regardless of how unique it was. At least an influx of pushy demons would have given her something to do. Over four months of sitting around in a broken church, and fighting nothing more than the occasional whimpering monster. She was almost missing Kirkwall's infestation of cave spiders. Almost.

Thus Hawke was back to exploring.

She crossed several of the floating Islands, seeking anything worthy of note. The red mounds of clay and randomly dispersed white pillars were unchanging.

Or not.

She had just crested a hill when she saw carnage. Rows of the glowing white columns had been sliced clean through leaving giant pieces of abused masonry decorating the landscape. The ground itself had been sliced in places, leaving long gauges of upturned clay.

Perhaps this wasn't the vacant lot she thought it was… but rather the territory of something big enough to keep everything else out. Contrary to popular believe Hawke could tell when she was swimming in dangerous waters, and right now she felt a little out of her depth. It took all of her self-control not to start grinning like a mad woman and go searching for excitement. Boredom did dangerous things to Hawke.

She was walking through the debris when she heard a voice.

"Ripples form on the water's surface…"

It was coming from over the next hillock.

"…The wandering soul knows no rest."

Making her way around she saw Genesis Rhapsodos, sitting quite comfortably on an outcropping.

How very curious. Was he also one of the Cetra? Or perhaps there were normal mages in Thedas after all? If he had anything to do with the field of rubble Hawke had just crossed then 'normal' was not the appropriate term.

"Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul,  
Pride is lost, wings stripped away, the end is nigh…"

He was reciting from a leather bound book he held, his captive audience a grove of bizarre trees. Each of their trunks grew in a curving arch; all in a row they made a natural corridor.

"Tough crowd?" Hawke asked, leaning against the nearest of the trees.

He looked up, startled by the interruption. When he spotted her though he appeared pleased, he snapped his book shut and gracefully stood.

"Hawke." He bowed slightly.

"Ser Rhapsodos" Hawke nodded.

He studied her closely, looking contemplative. "I need to find you." he finally said.

"I believe _I_ found _you_." Hawke answered with a slight smile. "Why? Did you need something?"

"The gift of the Goddess." He said softy, looking off into the distance, "We seek it thus, and take to the sky…"

"…What?" poetry was not Hawke's strong suit.

He sighed and turned back to her. "I need healing."

Hawke sighed, "I don't suppose you mean your shoulder do you?" She suspected what he was looking for; she dreaded having to tell him it was impossible.

"Not for my shoulder. The healing you gave has not been undone." He approached her, watching her closely, "How did you do it?"

"It was just a simple healing spell. I'm sorry that it wasn't enough." She said sincerely.

He scoffed. "Do not take me for a fool; no amount of materia could fix that wound. Now tell me, what did you do?"

That didn't say much for the powers of materia. The corruption inside of him was incurable by any standard, but the cut on his shoulder wasn't the problem. Looking at him now, tall and proud and regal, Hawke felt pity for what the taint would do to him. The corruption was always awful but this poor man had no idea how terrible his destruction would be. Knowing he was doomed, Hawke decided to be honest with him. Life had dealt him a bad enough hand without her adding to it.

"I didn't say materia." She was almost certain this was a terrible idea, but then so was facing the Arishok in single combat and that had worked out pretty well.

He was watching her all the closer now, his eyes narrowed, "If not materia, then what? What will it take for you to heal me completely?"

Hawke shook her head, "I can't heal it. I'm sorry, I wish I could."

He scowled and stepped closer to her, "What will it take to buy your aid then? How much money will it take to convince you?"

"I'm not trying to bribe you, I simply can't. It's not something I can do."

He shook his head, "You lie! You halted the degradation once; you could easily do so again. Or do you simply enjoy holding power over the lives of others?"

Hawke's pity for the man was withering like a forgotten soufflé. "Why, do you?" She asked, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"The only power I want is over my own life. Yet fate has given that power to you." He looked down at her bitterly, "You do not even know what you doom me to with your callous indifference."

"I've already lost my brother to the corruption, don't you fucking dare accuse me of not caring." No amount of caring had saved Carver; her inability to let go had just made his death slower. _I am dead_, he had said years later, _it's just taking it's time_. This red headed brat should be grateful there were no Grey Wardens to work him to death in the meantime.

Had Hawke been slightly less furious she might have noticed how taken aback Genesis looked. Perhaps not quite repentant but he seemed to be re-evaluating his approach.

"Your brother?"

"It's none of your business. I'd rather not have his name slandered by someone who's never so much as met him." Hawke might never have actually gotten along with Carver but he was family and that was all that mattered.

"Was he one of Shinra's experiments?"

Hawke sighed; she really didn't want to have this conversation. Especially since according to Aerith there were no blights in this land, the lucky bastards. But then, without the blight how did Genesis get corrupted…?

"Is that what happened to you?"

He looked down, his face twisted with resentment. Then he turned away and laughed bitterly. "Of course it is. That's all SOLDIER is you know. Lab rats for Shinra to play with and then proudly display once they've been properly broken." He spread his arms and gestured grandly "I am nothing more than Shinra's pet monster. Kept on a leash for when they might have need of me."

His anger and bitterness was palpable. She didn't know if she could trust what Genesis said, but if Shinra truly was responsible for infecting him with the blight then his anger and desperation were easily justified. Hawke was reminded of Fenris and the experiments he had suffered under Danarius, except even the Magisters knew better than to play with the corruption of the blight.

Genesis lifted his head. He looked around as though only just seeing his surroundings.

"This is a dream." he said finally. He turned back to face her, his coat whipping around him.

"Yes, we're in the Fade." How had he not noticed?

He sighed and shook his head. "I will not give up until I find the real Hawke. No matter what you claim, she stalled the degradation. If anyone can stop it, it will be her."

"I am the real Hawke." She asked a little puzzled. "Do you think I'm a spirit?"

"You are but a dream." He said dismissively.

Oh. He didn't realise. He didn't know what the fade was; he must think this was all just his imagination. Hawke sighed; did nobody on Gaia understand any of this?

"I can't heal you Genesis. Not here, not in the real world. There is nothing I can do."

She felt a tug on her mind, she was waking up. The fade swirled around her, dissipating into the darkness of closed eyes.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm looking to improve my writing and critiques are all welcomed :)_

_Next Time: Denial and doughnuts. _


	7. Yesterday's Mistakes

_A/N: Another chapter that refused to do as it was told. We settled on a compromise. _

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! As far as I'm aware at least one of you doesn't know about ff7 and another doesn't know about DA2. I'm trying to add enough exposition about each world so that you're not too confused but honestly I have no idea if that's succeeding or not. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Genesis viciously sliced through the last monster. With the last of the enemies slain, the simulation dissipated leaving the commander alone in the virtual reality training room.

He had spent the better part of an hour carving through endless simulated creatures, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He had taken to the training room in a bid for distraction. His mind insisted on dwelling on the strange dream he'd had the night before. Normally Genesis would have gladly analysed his dreams, contemplating the meaning behind the images his subconscious showed him. This was different. Not only was the dream itself overly depressing but it felt unusual. He could recall with almost perfect clarity the words he had exchanged with dream-Hawke. That itself was part of the problem, he had no desire to remember what was said, the words of his only hope for life telling him he was doomed.

_I can't heal you Genesis. _

It was just a dream. He wouldn't let something so inconsequential bother him. As much as he sought meaning in his life, he knew that not everything held significance. That and the other things dream-Hawke had said made no sense. Healing without materia? Impossible. And what in Gaia was the 'Fade'? It was obviously nonsense.

Genesis swept out of the training room and started making his way towards Sephiroth's office. It had become custom for himself, Angeal, and Sephiroth to meet around this time for a few drinks. It was one of the few quiet moments that their busy schedules allowed for and a valued escape from the rank and file. Angeal wouldn't be there this week; he was off training his excitable apprentice. How the man could weather his student's boundless energy Genesis would never understand.

However, that left only Genesis and Sephiroth. The once steadfast friendship between the two men was a mere shadow of what it used to be. After the incident in the training room that left Genesis with an unhealable wound, his resentment towards Sephiroth had grown exponentially. Where once they had been friendly rivalry there was open bitterness. The revelations about his own origin, that he was merely a failed prototype to Sephiroth, Shinra's perfect SOLDIER, had left Genesis barely able to talk to the man. Sephiroth's ignorance as to his sudden vitriol had only antagonized Genesis all the more.

After his wound was healed however, he saw things differently. His degradation stalled, some of the damage even reversed a little, Genesis realised that it wasn't just his body that was being affected. While his anger towards Shinra hadn't abated (and never would), all the blame he had heaped upon Sephiroth didn't make as much sense to him as it once did. His resentment for the man's perfection remained, but given that Genesis had been on the verge of deserting Shinra, his attempts at alienating Sephiroth struck him as a tactical error at best. On some level Genesis knew that his planned abandonment of Sephiroth had been an attack on the man. Tarnishing his perfection by taking away what he knew was the General's only real family.

He would never admit it, but Genesis was ashamed. For someone who dreamed of being a renowned Hero, such a petty and damaging attack on an old friend was beneath him. Yet at the time it had been perfectly reasonable, hurting Sephiroth was merely an extension of his revenge on Shinra. Even if it left the only person who could defeat him with every reason to do so. Even if it meant attacking someone who, for all his perfection, was far more a helpless puppet of Shinra than Genesis had ever been.

Then Hawke had spontaneously healed him and everything looked rather different. That his mind had been so drastically altered by the degradation was far more terrifying than the thought of his body rotting. Yes, he was a warrior and a fearsome one at that but his true strength was his intellect. His cunning mind that could manipulate the most complex materia, see the underlying poetry of life, and use the most sophisticated tactics to outmanoeuvre any opponent. And now he could no longer rely on it. He wasn't accustomed to self-doubt. It left him feeling vulnerable.

He had to find Hawke. As soon as possible.

_There is nothing I can do._

Strange dreams be damned. He would not allow this corruption to take him. There was no alternative. He would find Hawke and she would heal him.

* * *

Sephiroth looked up as Genesis sauntered into his office, with nary so much as a by-your-leave.

It was Genesis custom and he had grown used to it. It had taken years for him to overlook the commander's breaks in regulation, but some part of him appreciated that Genesis treated him as an equal. Nobody else did, it was nice to step down from the pedestal the world had put him on. Genesis was such an impeccable SOLDIER in every other sense so the lack of proper respect was humoured, so long as it wasn't in public.

The commander looked troubled. Not unusual for Genesis, all year something seemed to have been bothering him, he had steadily grown more antagonistic and distant. Then just before the Wutai war started up again Genesis had abruptly announced that his shoulder had recovered (with no further explanation added) and the commander had become more reasonable. He still threw plenty of jabs and veiled insults at Sephiroth but they had lost the bitterness they once had. Sephiroth would never consider social interaction his area of expertise but even he could tell that Genesis had been severely troubled by something. The injury he had sustained didn't seem to justify it. Injuries happened, it was part of being a soldier, enhanced or not. It wasn't even the first time one of them had been hurt while training.

Regardless, Genesis was healed and it seemed they were friends again. He was glad, Genesis' theatrics could be weathered when the commander was in a good mood, but when he was Displeased, or Gaia forbid openly hostile, dealing with him became a trial of endurance.

Now almost a month after the war had been resolved, he looked agitated again. Genesis paced in front of the window, his eyes occasionally narrowing as he scrutinized the carpet. Sephiroth was concerned. He hoped he wasn't suffering any stubbornly non-healing wounds again, but he knew better than to ask. Genesis wouldn't tell him even if he was, and he'd only be rewarded with a recital.

Eventually Genesis sighed and sat on one of the couches. Sephiroth remained sitting at his desk. Their cordial but mundane conversation had petered out. Sephiroth wasn't really one for small talk.

"Have you ever heard of magic independent of materia?" Genesis asked, seemingly apropos of nothing. The question was characteristically unexpected.

It wasn't something Sephiroth had ever considered. Though he wielded magic whenever the situation called for it, he relied upon his swordsmanship. Genesis however was the most powerful magic user in all of SOLDIER and the unquestioned expert on materia.

"Legends claim that the Cetra were capable of such things." How much of that was fanciful thinking or artistic licence Sephiroth couldn't say. Nothing about the Cetra was known for certain. "If you're asking if I've ever encountered it then no, I haven't. I doubt it's truly possible. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." said Genesis before contradicting himself, "Given that materia is but crystalized mako and as SOLDIERs we are infused with mako, perhaps we might have underestimated ourselves."

"I don't think you've ever underestimated yourself Genesis." he said with a smirk.

"Perhaps not, but you certainly have." said Genesis, waving his hand dismissively.

"I'll take your word for it." Sephiroth refrained from shaking his head. Genesis' competitiveness was one of the most constant factors of his life.

"What brought this on?" he asked curiously "Getting bored with your materia? Or are you simply looking for a new challenge?" The concept sounded dubious to him but it would certainly be an advantage on the field. Genesis had a veritable treasure trove of materia and it was his greatest strength, but casting without the restrictions that came with the baubles would make him all the more formidable. If anyone was going to perform magic independently it would be Genesis, if only out of sheer determination.

"I was merely considering the possibilities. I don't care for the world's limitations."

"So you think you might be a Cetra?" Sephiroth sounded amused.

"Of course not. But, perhaps they knew something the rest of us didn't." Genesis said in a contemplative tone.

"Hm. If you should uncover any of this lost wisdom, don't hesitate to share it with us." said Sephiroth. He doubted anything would come of it, but it was an interesting thought nonetheless.

The conversation turned to the drudgery of work. They spoke of the other SOLDIERs, Angeal, and his student who would probably be promoted to First Class soon. Genesis had a meeting to attend and eventually left.

Alone in his office, Sephiroth thought over what had been said. The high concentration of mako in a SOLDIER's blood stream was what made casting materia so much easier for them but to circumvent materia entirely seemed rather far-fetched. The association with the Cetra, now that he thought about, wasn't something they should really be discussing. Nobody outside of Shinra's Science Department, not even the General himself, knew what exactly made a SOLDIER. The mako was no secret; you could see it glowing in their eyes, but anything else involved was a highly guarded company secret. As a SOLDIER there were some questions you simply didn't ask, that included anything pertaining to the workings of their enhancements.

Sephiroth dismissed the line of thought. There was no benefit to dwelling on it.

* * *

_"Do you think we could… take a break? I feel… wrong." Carver said weakly. It was hard to tell in the dimly lit caverns of the Deep roads but he was pale and sweating. _

_"Heh, I'll wager it was those deep mushrooms we found." said Varric, keeping a vigilante eye on the off shooting tunnels. _

_"No, it's…" the younger Hawke's voice faded away._

_"Carver!" exclaimed Hawke, running back to him as he collapsed. She looked down at her brother, finally seeing the discoloured veins bulging under his watery complexion._

_"It's the blight," Anders said quietly, "I can sense it." _

_"No… I won't let it take you!" Hawke shook her head as she spoke, desperation colouring her voice. "There must be something-" _

_"I'm not going to make it. Not to the surface, not anywhere. I can feel it… it's getting worse." his voice broke. His bloodshot eyes looked up at Hawke. She saw the words he couldn't say, 'I_ _don't know what to do, sister.' his gaze pleaded, 'save me, please, save me…'_

_Anders spoke "I think there are Grey Wardens down here, we could bring Carver to them…"_

_"And what? Become a Grey Warden?" mumbled Carver._

_Hawke looked up with hope in her eyes. _

_"Is becoming a Warden a cure?" she asked._

_"I suppose it is." Anders said hesitantly, "But it's not without a price, one not everyone is willing to pay. And it's irreversible. It also means you will probably never see your brother again." he looked apologetic, but he continued, "He might survive the blight, but at the cost of becoming a Warden. It's not an easy life…"_

_A few hours later Carver could barely walk; he was slung over Hawke's shoulder and fading in and out of consciousness. They found the Grey Wardens and asked for their aid._

_"We do not recruit Grey Wardens out of pity. It is not a kindness." _

_"You think it's kinder to let Carver die of Blight?!" Hawke asked. She could feel his fever as she held him up, his tunic soaked with sweat._

_"Sometimes it is, yes. This may be as much a death sentence as the sickness. If the boy comes, he comes now; you will not see him again. Being a Warden is not a cure, it is a calling."_

_"Are you sure about this?" Carver asked, his glazed eyes searching for his sister's face._

_Hawke looked at her little brother, knowing it would be the last time. _

_"If this is the only way you can live, then yes." she said. "This is how it has to be now." _

Hawke sat on the edge of her bed. She hadn't thought about Carver's recruitment into the Wardens in years. Talking with Genesis in the Fade had stirred up a host of old regrets, none of which she wished to relive.

She never did see Carver again. It had been almost a year before she even knew if he survived the joining. A letter finally came, signed Warden Carver Hawke. She would receive three more over the years, each more forlorn than the one before. He had survived the joining, his brashness and naivety had not.

She hoped he was still alive somewhere, even if warden's were only alive on a technicality. She wished… well. It didn't matter. Carver's fate was sealed, now she had her own to worry about.

Going about the usual routine, Hawke soon found herself entering the broken little church with Aerith next to her. She nodded at today's suit wearing spy; he was pale and expressionless with tied back black hair. He nodded back at her, as they all did now. After she had more or less befriended Reno the daily spectators had stopped trying to hide and acknowledged her when she spotted them. They seemed to accept her part in this little arrangement and she didn't begrudge them theirs.

Hawke had long since run out of relevant books to study as well as healing techniques to teach Aerith. The girl had completely outstripped Hawke with healing proficiency and Hawke couldn't have been prouder. Aerith would have to rely on her own intuition for further improvement but now that she had all the basics thoroughly memorized she would continue to progress even without guidance.

For the moment it meant that Aerith would finally be learning something different from Hawke. Shield spells were the first topic they would be covering and they were now on the third day of study. Hawke was glad to finally be focusing on something that she understood thoroughly and Aerith was feeling the exact opposite. Defensive spells were clearly not the cetra's strong point, they hadn't been Hawke's either but after a few years of perfecting the art they came easily enough. The newly found discord was poking holes in Hawke's teaching methods.

"It's not working Hawke. I try to shape the mana but it just dissipates." Aerith said, sounding frustrated.

"You're not trying to bludgeon it into submission, Aerith." Sheer insistence would not make the mana co-operate, but an irritated Aerith had trouble grasping that. Hawke suspected the next few months of training would not be joy filled. As Aerith wasn't eager to learn to fight and Hawke was even more hesitant to teach her, they would simply have to work with barriers. Since the girl couldn't remain defenceless, it was a necessary evil.

"I'm not bludgeoning it. I'm… asking it nicely." Aerith stretched out her hand and attempted to build another shield. "Oh planet, I've lost it again." She stamped her foot.

"Maybe if…" Aerith looked at Hawke's staff, leaning against the nearest pew. Then she huffed and looked away, not bothering to ask her question.

Hawke knew they would have to find Aerith a staff soon. It hadn't been necessary for healing; only battlefield healers really needed them as they improved range. Defensive spells however were undeniably easier with a staff. Aerith had looked a little longingly at Hawke's weapon a few times but Hawke had always said no. The staff of the Champion would be far more than the teenager could handle on her own. Even Hawke hadn't been able to use it for years; it was a serious weapon and more dangerous to the wielder then anyone else if you didn't know exactly what you were doing. Aerith would only end up hurting herself.

This called for a compromise.

"Come here, Aerith." Hawke stood, pulling out her staff and holding the lyrium infused weapon lightly to the side.

Aerith sulked her way towards Hawke. "It just… it doesn't feel right, Hawke." she sighed.

"We might be able to fix that." She gestured for Aerith to stand facing her. Hawke held the staff in front of her with both hands, the tip of the blade on the floorboards. The swirling red orb on the other end was pointed straight up towards the roof.

"Hold the staff Aerith. Between my hands."

Aerith slowly reached out, a look of excitement in her eyes. Hawke rearranged her own hands overtop Aerith's, maintaining a sturdy grip on the weapon.

"Don't try to cast anything," Hawke instructed "Just feel…" slowly she started building up a shield, letting the magic flow over her hands and into the staff. She steadily knit the mana together in a protective weave and hoped Aerith could feel what she was doing.

"Oh," Aerith tilted her head in concentration "So that's how you do it. It feels… complicated."

Smiling Hawke lifted the staff, letting the built up mana spill out around them. A shimmering shield surrounded the two mages. Pulling a hand from the staff Aerith turned and gazed at the barrier in wonder.

"It's so pretty." she murmured, poking it experimentally. Hawke shook her head fondly. Last week Aerith had been healing broken bones, now she was gazing in awe at the most basic of shield spells. It was endearing really.

Suddenly there was a deafening crash. Both women jumped as debris rained down from the roof. A heavy body crashed against the shield and bounced off, landing with a thump amidst the flowers.

As the last of the broken roofing materials settled the shield flickered out of existence. Aerith was baffled and shocked. Hawke snorted and laughed. Of course half the roof caved in the second she encased them in a shield. As always her timing was excellent and her luck abysmal.

But now they had the aftermath to deal with. The shield had saved them, but had it just killed someone else? The unidentified body hadn't moved.

"Oh no!" Aerith noticed the inert intruder and ran to check on them. Hawke could already see blood staining the flowers.

Their visitor was a tall unconscious male, probably in his late teens. He was muscular and wore pauldrons on his shoulders and a broadsword on his back. Aerith didn't appear to have noticed any of that and was entirely focused on the rusted metal pipe piercing his abdomen.

"Alright Aerith, you know what to do." They could get back to shields some other day. If that logo on his belt was what Hawke thought it might be than helping him was in everyone's best interests. That and she really didn't feel like moving a body today.

Aerith looked up at her and nodded, then focused on the boy again. Hawke could feel mana shifting as Aerith got ready to cast.

"If you could pull out the pipe when I say, then I'll heal him."

"Alright, remember to check for poisons, the pipe looks filthy."

Kneeling next to him, Hawke quickly removed the rusting metal on Aerith's signal and watched as a healing green glow flowed about the wound. It looked like it wasn't such a major injury after all, though abdominal wounds could turn deadly very easily this one hadn't hit any vital organs. Aerith was patching it all back together with grand efficiency. She finished with the bump on his head.

The boy stirred. He mumbled something before slowly opening his eyes. His eyes glowed blue. He blinked a few times before registering Aerith's smiling face.

"Heaven?" he asked up at her.

Aerith giggled. Hawke groaned.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm looking to improve my writing and all comments and critiques are welcomed :)_

_Next time: Teenagers and Zealots. _


	8. Nostalgia and Conundrums

_A/N: Thanks everyone who has read/favourited/followed/reviewed! _

_Thepkrmgc, this one's for you :)_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. _

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"Heaven?" The boy asked, looking up into the face of a giggling Aerith.

Hawke rolled her eyes and started clearing some of the ceiling rubble. Their intruder was lying where he fell in the flowerbed.

"Not quite," said Aerith, "Just a church in the slums. You fell from the sky." she looked up through the new gaping hole in the ceiling, the sunlight streaming down through the dusty air around them.

"So you saved me, huh?" he asked, grinning up at her. Apparently he had noticed the bloodied tear in his uniform, he didn't seem particularly bothered.

"Not really. Just a little materia." she bit her lip. She wasn't much of a liar but he was too distracted by how cute she looked to notice. "The flowers cushioned your fall. I'm Aerith by the way." she half turned, her skirt swaying softly with the motion.

He leaned right back before jumping onto his feet in one smooth motion.

"Thank you so much, Aerith." He shot her a dazzling smile, "I'm Zack." Aerith blushed.

Hawke wondered if she'd be within her rights to start threatening him yet.

"I have to repay you somehow." he continued with a contemplative tone.

"Don't worry about it." Aerith said, shaking her head.

"No, no… Hmmm, aha!" he snapped his fingers "How about one date?"

Hawke snorted. "Is that all?" she said, "I think you're being short changed there, Aerith."

They both turned to her, noticing (or remembering) they had an audience. Hawke smirked; hormone ridden teenagers were the same no matter what world you were in.

"Oh, uh, hi there." Zack said awkwardly. "Sorry about the roof."

"It's no big deal. It was rotten anyway." said Aerith. Hawke looked down at some of the solid wooden planks now decorating the floor. If that was rotten then she was a Qunari.

"Hey! Don't step on the flowers!" Aerith said sharply, her voice as forceful as Hawke had ever heard it. Zack stood with one foot poised above the flower bed, unsure as to where he should put it.

"I, um, sorry?" he offered.

"Usually people are more careful with flowers." she said, the reproach clear in her tone.

The two chatted on, Hawke barely paying attention. Zack was suggesting something about selling the flowers when a ringing noise pierced the air. Apparently it was coming from Zack's pocket. He pulled out a phone (and Hawke was overly pleased with herself for identifying it as such).

"Hi Angeal! …yeah I'm fine." he spoke into the device, turning to face the wall. "…hey, I thought it'd be strong enough! How was I supposed to know the metal was rusted through... okay yeah it had a couple of holes in it-" he rolled his eyes and winked at Aerith before focusing on the phone again "…Oh. Alright, yeah I'll be right there." he snapped the phone shut.

"Duty calls!" he said, sending them a mock salute. "See ya Aerith! And you too, uh…"

"Hawke, her name is Hawke." Aerith said.

"Hawke, huh? Well, see you later!" He said while walking for the door. He pushed it open and Hawke heard a faint "Oh, hi Tseng!"

She decided to live up to her reputation as the nosiest of Champions. She opened the door in time to see Zack walking away with his hands in his pockets, whistling happily. To her right the black haired spy was standing.

"Hawke." he nodded.

"Suit." she nodded back.

His expression remained blank. He was putting Reno's poker face to shame, she thought. He pushed open the door slightly and looked in to see Aerith, standing idly by the flowers and humming to herself. He nodded again and left.

* * *

"Hawke, when you talk about spirits do you mean Summons?" Aerith asked.

They were both lying down on the floor of the church. After cleaning up all the mess from the cave in, which had taken far longer than either had imagined, they hadn't been in any mood to practise Aerith's magic and had deposited themselves on the newly swept floor.

Aerith's question seemed rather random but the way she said it gave Hawke the impression that she'd been thinking it over for a while.

"That depends," she said, "what exactly do you mean by Summons?"

"You know, Summon materia. It lets you call a spirit from another dimension that fights for you." Aerith said, as though it were common knowledge. Maybe it was.

"Why?" Hawke asked with her eyes narrowed.

"I think it's if you need a hand, they'll finish off an enemy for you."

"No, I mean why do they fight for you?"

"Because you asked them to." Aerith tilted her head in confusion.

"What do they get in return? Surely they don't just help you out of the kindness of their hearts." Hawke said sceptically. It was the first she had heard of these 'Summons' and it was setting off all sorts of alarms in her head.

"Why wouldn't they? Maybe they're just friendly?"

Hawke gawked at the girl. She knew she was naïve but _really_?

"Have you been paying any attention at all, Aerith? The spirits of the fade crave a foothold in our world, if you make a deal with one, you will be that foothold. They'll gladly take the world off our hands, if only given the chance."

Aerith seemed to muse over that. "I had always thought that whoever has the materia gets to command whatever's inside it. That's what people say anyway."

Hawke narrowed her eyes as she thought about that. It didn't sound right at all, but things were very different here. With no mages, perhaps the spirits were just that cooperative? Or maybe they were bound and had no choice in the matter? It sounded far too convenient either way. She couldn't see them being subservient without vast recompense.

"Where I come from no spirit lends its aid without making a bargain first." Hawke said slowly "And they're all cunning salesmen. No matter what deal is made they always come out on top. They take more than you intend to give, every time. I don't know if these 'Summons' are the same, but it doesn't sound right." she sighed. It went against everything she knew and all the hard learned lessons life had taught her. "I would strongly advice against having anything to do with them, Aerith. The risk is… well. It's just not worth it."

Aerith was looking at her funny. She did that sometimes, contemplating Hawke as though she was a puzzle and Aerith was trying to fit together all the pieces. She wondered how long it would take the girl to realise that the fragments didn't actually fit together anymore, they were just the only pieces she had managed to hold onto.

"What happened, Hawke?" Aerith finally asked. "What did the demons do to you?"

Hawke leaned back against the floorboards, looking at the hole in the ceiling. For all her moments of naivety, Aerith could be far too perceptive sometimes.

"They took a very dear friend, Aerith. They turned him into something awful. In the end…" Hawke took a deep breathe. "In the end, I had to kill him."

"I'm so sorry." Aerith whispered.

"Me too." Hawke closed her eyes. "Me too, Aerith."

It was too much. Anders… his betrayal, the slaughter that followed, she didn't want to get sucked into the vortex of pain surrounding it all. She turned her head. She had other memories, she would focus on those. The bad ending couldn't erase the happy times that came before. If she had to pretend she didn't about know the tragedies that followed then she would pretend with the best of them.

"It wasn't always like that though. We had such crazy adventures together." Hawke said, smiling softly. "We killed more demons than I count."

"Tell me about your adventures." Aerith smiled up at her, rolling onto her stomach to face Hawke, her head resting on her hands.

"Varric was always the storyteller, though I guess I could give it a try." There were so many stories to choose from. She mused over the episodes of madness her friends had followed her into over the years. Oh! She knew which story to tell Aerith, it had been one of Varric's favourites to recite to the drunken crowds down at the Hanged Man. Secretly it was one of her favourites too, though she never told him that.

"Kirkwall has a long and troubled history," she began, putting on her best storytelling voice. Aerith grinned.

"Endless terrible things have happened there over the centuries. Lunatic blood mages, Slave trading Magisters, even the Qunari ruled the city at one point." Aerith probably had no idea what half of those things were but that was just how the story went. "Because of the countless unspeakable horrors going back generations, there are all sorts of strange and dangerous things left over in the depths of the city. With the Fade so very thin, if you poke around in the wrong corner you never know what you'll find. You know, 'stare into the void and find it staring back', that sort of thing."

"Now, a few years ago, I found a book. Hidden in some abandoned hovel, it was bound with black leather and stank of blood. It had a dangerous, evil feel to it. I picked it up, I'm very thorough in my raiding you see, and it felt… hungry."

"Hungry?" Aerith looked somewhere between baffled and scared.

"Hungry, like it would consume us all the second we turned our backs." Hawke was starting to see why Varric enjoyed this so much. "I didn't like it and promptly destroyed it."

"Oh." Now Aerith just looked disappointed.

"There's more, Aerith. This isn't just the story of that book I destroyed that one time." Hawke said with a chuckle. "A year or so later I stumbled across another book. This one didn't just smell of blood, it was dripping out of the pages. It felt ravenous. I destroyed it, just like I did the previous one. You see, there had long been rumours in the city of a great evil lurking somewhere, beneath the streets and courtyards. Mages would wake up screaming and refuse to speak of what they had seen. There were whispers of the Forgotten Ones, demons so strong and wicked even the ancient Magisters bowed before them in fear and reverence."

"Over the years I found five of these tomes, each more blood soaked and hungry than the one before. I didn't open any of them, but destroyed them immediately. The last book, the fifth, we found in a huge cavern. It was underneath the city sewers, a massive stone chamber with rows of rough-hewn columns holding up the roof, burning red torches in brackets on the walls provided the only light. At the far end of the echoing chamber was a stone altar. It was covered in black candle stumps, with the rotting carcass of some unknown creature bound to it, the remnant of an ancient sacrifice. In the middle of it all, sat the book." She remembered it so clearly, the flickering lights, the eerie smoke, Fenris' swearing and Merrill's fascination. Ander's had scowled and Varric asked why they never went anywhere sunny.

"The evil sensation was so strong there; you could almost see the mana surrounding it. The rotten yet starving tendrils of some forbidden and long forgotten magic were reaching out from the altar for anything to corrupt and consume." Hawke couldn't deny she was having way too much fun with this. Aerith hadn't blinked in a while.

"Not wanting to get too close to any of it, I summoned up a firestorm. Just large enough to encase the altar and turn it all into ash. The fire came down but as the book caught fire a piercing scream went up. The fire grew, turning into a swirling maelstrom no longer in my control. Demons sprung up from the ground all around the room. Dozens of Shades and rage demons surrounded us; we all drew our weapons and stood back to back, ready for a fight. Out of the burning altar stepped a nearly naked woman, tall and commanding with icy blue skin and horns curling back from her head. It was a desire demon, and easily the strongest I've ever seen."

"She was furious. Looking down upon us and shrieking with outrage, she summoned a tall silver spear and twirled it threateningly while circling us. Her demon pets roared and howled." Hawke grinned as she remembered the deafening cacophony.

"Normally, this is the part where a demon would tempt you; try to make you an offer in return for your soul. She was so angry though she didn't even bother. Xebenkeck the Undying, she called herself. She was one of the ancient and greatest of demons, one of the four Forgotten Ones, so terrible and perverse that all the other demons tremble before them. And I had just destroyed her gates to the mortal realm."

Hawke told Aerith of the fight, long and arduous as it had been. Aerith, knowing nothing of combat, was a little bewildered. Hawke was so enthusiastic, pouring so much energy into her descriptions of how Fenris sliced that demon's head right off and how Anders froze them in place for Varric to smash with his Crossbow bolts that Aerith got swept up in it all.

"Then, just as one of my lightning storms fizzled out, the Xebenkeck screamed and dropped her spear. The last of her strength sapped, she faded away. The rest of her lackeys had already been defeated and she was sucked back into the fade. As she disappeared she left an echoing whisper: _'Next time Hawke, next time you will not be so lucky…_' " she smiled broadly at Aerith's captivated expression. It had been a good battle, one she was proud of. It was one of the hardest fights they had every gotten themselves into but it was also amoung the least complicated. There were no moral quandaries here, just an evil demon in need of a good killing. A perfect adventure really. She was glad that Aerith was suitably impressed with the exploits of her and friends.

"So she just went back to the fade? But you killed her!" Aerith asked in indignation. A good story was supposed to end with the bad guys thoroughly defeated, unfortunately demons weren't narratively cooperative.

"She isn't called Xebenkeck _the Undying_ for nothing you know, but it doesn't matter. You can't technically kill any of the demons or spirits. All you can really do is temporarily inconvenience them. When they're killed out here they return to the fade, but it takes them a while to collect themselves.

"What if you kill them in the fade?" Aerith asked curiously.

"That scatters them there; it takes them much longer to pull themselves back together then. They are still immortal at the end of the day. I haven't seen old Xebenkecky since then though, so maybe we did some lasting damage."

Aerith chuckled. "Your friends sound very dangerous Hawke. Very strange too."

"Well you know, birds of a feather and all that." Hawke said with a smile. "Normal is overrated."

Aerith smiled.

* * *

She was back in the Fade.

Hawke crossed the field of carnage approaching Genesis' grove of bizarre trees. She didn't know why she was here, it's not as though she wanted to talk to him.

But really, what else was she going to do? She may as well be arguing with Mr Poetry.

She climbed the little hillock overlooking the curving trees. Genesis was sitting on the same outcropping as before, but he seemed to be just enjoying the scenery this time. His eyes briefly turned to her before reverting back to the trees. The soft hum of cicadas could be heard buzzing in the grove.

"You're not in Sector 7." He said abruptly.

"No, I'm not." she said slowly. His statement was accurate though she didn't see what it had to do with anything.

"Unless, of course, you are far better at hiding than I anticipated." he continued with narrowed eyes, "Though why would you have reason to hide? Where are you Hawke? Why can't I find you?"

"Currently, I'm in the Fade. That's all that matters."

"I don't mean here, this is but a dream."

"Which is, in fact, what I just said." If he wanted something he was going to have to ask for it here. The situation between Shinra and Aerith was already complicated enough, she wasn't about to make it more so by giving out her address.

She plucked a few leaves off a nearby branch. Then she sat, leaning against the base of the nearest tree. Directly in front of her she could see the trunk curve overheard and back down again, meeting the ground a few meters away from her.

"What is it with these trees? I've never seen anything grow like that before."

"They are Banora White trees. They are native to my home town." he said with some bitterness. He stood and walked under the canopy the row of curving trees made. "I climbed these trees as a child. They would produce the most delicious apples." He voice turned wistful as he looked up at them.

"Really?" Hawke looked him over, noting his dignified posture and tailored leather duster. "I can see it now: you a scruffy barefoot child, climbing trees in search of apples. Your bright red hair stuck with twigs and leaves."

"Hardly." he scoffed, "My parents wouldn't have stood for it. The son of the mayor couldn't be seen running about with grubby hands and torn clothes." He smiled as he continued, "I had to resort to all sorts of trickery to get away with it."

Hawke smiled. She had an appreciation for the crafty sort. She thought back to her own childhood. "The only fruit we had as children grew on Barlin's farm. The paranoid old coot kept setting traps because he thought bears were eating his fruit. Never did stop us. I can't fault him for trying though."

"You braved bear traps for stolen fruit?"

"No, I learned how to disarm bear traps for stolen fruit." she said.

He chuckled lightly and shook his head. He looked up at the swirling green sky then and sighed softly.

"I had a friend, a boy I grew up with who would steal from the other trees." he said, a small smile on his face. "He never took from those on our land though. He said his honour wouldn't permit it."

Hawke smirked. "My honour is much more flexible. And thank goodness for that, if it wasn't for all that practise disarming bear traps I doubt I'd be here today."

"Oh? You've made a career stealing fruit then?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"It's more of a hobby really." she said lightly. "I wonder what happened to old Barlin. I hope the Blight didn't get him."

"The Blight?" he raised an eyebrow.

She sighed, so much for happy recollections.

"A conversation for another day perhaps." she said with a grim smile.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm trying to improve my writing and critiques are all welcomed :)_

_This chapter might feel like filler but I swear it's going somewhere. I've got a plot worked out and everything! It'll probably be wrapped up in about 10 chapters or so. _

_Next time: Wolves in sheep's clothing_


	9. A Delightful Reunion

_A/N: Boy do I hate writing fight scenes. Also, screw canon and logic too. _

_Thanks everyone who has read/faved/reviewed!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of it._

* * *

**Chapter 9 **

"I really don't feel like cards this week, Reno." Hawke said, slouching on her bar stool.

"Fine. Been a long week anyway." he said, resting his head on the grimy bar and staring through his half empty beer bottle. They were both at the Fat Chocobo for their weekly drinking and gambling session. Hawke wasn't entirely sure when Reno had stopped being just a person she gets drunk with and steals from and morphed into an untrustworthy friend. Regardless, she found she genuinely enjoyed his company if only because he was unlikely to lecture her on proper flower care.

"How's Zack doing?" he drawled.

"He keeps coming back and Aerith won't stop giggling." she said with a long suffering sigh.

"Heh, I bet." Reno smirked at her, "He said you threatened him on the way out yesterday, something about kicking his ass if he doesn't treat her right?"

"I told him if he breaks her heart I'll break his legs. He seems to be behaving himself though. A shame really, looks like I won't get to curb stomp him after all." she said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. Hawke actually didn't mind Zack, the young SOLDIER's boundless energy could get a little grating but he was easy to like and hard to stay mad at.

"Hey uh, speaking of which…" Reno said quietly, sitting up now.

"Of what? Curb stomping?"

"Yeah, sure, you could say that." he took a swig of his beer and leaned back. "I hear the Labcoats at work are looking for somebody to curb stomp. Pretty sure they've got someone in special in mind." his tone was light and breezy but his gaze was pointed.

Hawke paused, beer bottle half way to her mouth. "Have they found them?" she asked cautiously.

"Nope. A couple days from now though they're going to ask us to do a search. I hope for her sake she aint in Midgar. The Labcoats can be pretty brutal."

Hawke didn't know all the details concerning Shinra, Aerith, and the spies in between, but she certainly knew a warning when she heard one. The source might be dubious but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"You're searching all of Midgar? That'd have to take, what, a couple of weeks at least?" she said, fishing for more information.

He smirked at her.

"Less than a week Babe. We are the best you know."

"Yeah, sure you are, Reno." she rolled her eyes and started planning.

* * *

The next day Hawke declared that it was high time she and Aerith did some travelling.

Aerith was thrilled and Elmyra quite concerned. After Hawke quietly told her that she had received a tip off, Elmyra heartily agree with the suggestion. Pouring over a world map, they argued over where exactly they should go. Elmyra suggested Kalm because it was small and quiet. Hawke objected on the grounds that in such a small town any newcomers would stick out like a sore thumb, and it was too close to Midgar anyway. She suggested Junon which Elmyra objected to because it was Shinra's secondary headquarters.

In the end Hawke's arguments won out. Since they didn't have enough funds for Fort Condor or anywhere off continent, Junon it was.

No stranger to shady customers and backroom deals, Hawke swiftly arranged for transport out of the city via quiet and unassuming means. The payment for such arrangements came chiefly from Hawke's pockets. She had amassed a decent amount of money from the monsters she hunted in her spare time and what she had won off Reno. Little would be left after the trip but she could afford to be generous. Elmyra wouldn't have been able to afford even half of the costs.

They were out of the city before sunset.

* * *

"Is there a problem, Fair?" Genesis asked, in a tone that implied he in no way cared.

He and Zack were in the virtual training room and were meant to be running a few practise missions. This was exactly the sort of situation Genesis went out of his way to avoid, but Angeal had cornered him and essentially coerced him into it. Usually he would have just refused and that would have been that, but Angeal had only asked him because he was taking the time to get a medical checked up. Something about a muscle strain that wasn't healing correctly.

Genesis couldn't say no to his friend under those circumstances. And now he was stuck with Zack Fair for half the day.

They had run through a practise mission in which Genesis threw fireballs at him while making him fight a horde of monsters. He had to concede that the boy was actually rather good; he would probably be promoted to 1st Class soon. However, Zack was clearly distracted by something and that irritated him. He didn't particularly care what was wrong with the boy so long as he stopped fidgeting. When Genesis Rhapsodos threw fireballs at you, you damn well paid attention.

"It's nothing sir." Zack said, scratching the back of his neck. "My girlfriend's just gone out of town and I didn't even know-"

"Your personal problems are not my problems." Genesis said in a bored tone. The simulation had ended and Zack was doing squats again. Was he incapable of standing still?

"I didn't even get to say goodbye!" Zack exclaimed "She sent me one short voicemail. Sure, we haven't been going out long but still-"

"Fair. I do not care." he said, wishing he hadn't asked. He had absolutely no interest in the troubles of a lovesick teenager.

Zack sighed. "I bet its Hawke's fault." he muttered to himself.

Genesis was suddenly paying very close attention.

"Hawke?" He asked, trying to sound as though it were a casual inquiry. "Tall, short black hair, plate armour on one shoulder?" No point in getting excited when it may not be the right Hawke.

"Yeah that's the one! Why, is she a friend of yours?" Zack asked.

"Of a sort. Do you know where she is?"

Zack stood, looking thoughtful. "Aerith said they were going to Junon. No idea how long for."

Genesis mentally took back every nasty thing he had ever said about the boy.

"Do you know where they were staying?"

"I don't know, like I said it was a short message." he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking quite contrite, "And, uh, she told me not to tell anyone, but I'm sure she won't mind that I told you. I hope."

Genesis was already sorting through where in Junon Hawke could be staying. Unlike Midgar and its ramshackle slums, Junon was clean and organized with a comparatively small population. Someone visiting would probably stay at a hotel, and someone from the slums would probably stay at a cheap hotel. The training session suddenly seemed so much longer.

He finally knew where Hawke was. Healing was on the horizon for both Angeal and himself; he just had to reach out and take it.

* * *

Hawke was having a lovely day.

It wasn't until they left Midgar that she realised just how sick of it she was. The roving musicians with whom they travelled (who were undoubtable the fine upstanding citizens their mismatched paperwork reported them to be) had dropped them off just outside the city limit. It was almost noon and Aerith was exhausted, having barely slept on the way. Hawke however was wide awake.

The sun was bright and crisp and such a relief after the perpetual darkness of the slums. Even Kirkwall had an upside, Midgar just felt like endless depression. But here there were wide open vistas and inevitable sunburn. Now if only there was something for her to slay it would be just about perfect. A dozen Qunari warriors wouldn't go amiss.

Lack of threatening enemies aside, she needed to find them lodgings. A few minutes of wandering brought them to an utterly unremarkable looking inn. Herding Aerith inside (who was only awake on a technicality by this point), she secured them both rooms for a very good price. The poor desk clerk was clearly unused to people haggling with her and Hawke almost felt bad for so ruthless exploiting the fact. Her purse didn't feel bad at all though.

They had gotten two joint bedrooms with their own lounge and tiny kitchen area. It was infinitely nicer that Hawke had expected, while it didn't begin to rival her old Kirkwall estate it certainly put the Hanged Man's rooms to shame. Aerith had no time for such observations and collapsed on her bed without even taking her shoes off. Clearly the girl wouldn't be moving any time soon.

Seizing the opportunity, Hawke freshened up then left to go exploring, safely locking the door behind her. She left Aerith a note just in case the girl woke up before she returned though she highly doubted that would be happening. Returning the way they came, she sought out something she had noticed when they drove in. She walked about twenty minutes across the dusty plain until she saw the vultures wheeling overhead. They were clearly circling something that had just died or was on the verge of doing so. If Hawke knew anything about wild animals, which she most certainly did, then the spilt blood would be drawing quite a few other predators as well.

She wondered sometimes if this need for violence was entirely healthy. It probably wasn't, but killing dangerous things was simply what she did. Without it she felt useless. Even tutoring Aerith and helping protect her just felt like so much busy work, mere stalling for her actual reason for getting up in the morning.

Her mother had never approved of all the violence, but then she had loved the Estate the violence purchased so Hawke hadn't considered that opinion invalid. It wasn't like she was hurting innocents. She used her skills to help people, whether in freeing Kirkwall from a Qunari invasion or just killing the giant spiders that lurked in every available corner. Gaia suffered from neither scourges, but there were monsters galore and somebody had to kill them. That was a noble cause and she didn't see anything wrong with enjoying it.

Whatever the vultures were circling came into view. It looked to be a group of… wild dogs? They looked like extremely large grey wolves with shaggy blue manes and vicious looking teeth. The locals called them Kalm Fangs. They were tearing into the remains of some creature far too mangled to be identified. There were well over a dozen of them, most looked gaunt and half starved. She doubted there would be any leftovers for the vultures.

Swinging her staff from her back and letting her mana flow freely in preparation, Hawke smiled. It wasn't long before they noticed her and decided she would be the second course.

A few lightning strikes later and Hawke was laughing heartily as she swung her staff about. The Fangs were vicious and hungry but not enough to make her desperate. If she hadn't specialised in force spells she might have been at risk of being overwhelmed, as it was she could simply push them to wherever she wanted them. Several were dead already, either from direct lightning strikes or the business end of her staff. More Fangs had joined the fight to take their place, and Hawke's smile was downright feral.

Oh, she had missed this. Nothing she had fought in the slums had brought this thrill, the sensation of fighting for your life. Just you, the enemy, and whatever scenery you choose to wield. There were no convenient boulders she could toss, but that just made it more interesting. Spinning in place she summoned a shield behind her and threw a branching lightning attack at the Fangs before her, the dry and dusty air carrying the charge splendidly. She swung her stuff up, floating all her attackers several meters in the air and was preparing to smash them down with devastating force when her concentration was interrupted.

"Hawke!" A voice that was becoming far too familiar called out.

The spell broken, the fangs fells harmlessly to the ground again. She growled and encased herself in a barrier.

"Dammit Genesis! These are my blue wolves, get your own!" She threw a gravity spell over the surrounding twenty meters of terrain and sent the red SOLDIER an unimpressed glare. _Interrupting a fight mid-spell, now that's just rude, _she muttered to herself. She still had at least fifteen Fangs to kill and she was not going to be cheated out of it.

"I'm not here for a fight, Hawke. I need to speak with you." He said irritably, dodging an attack from the closest Fang.

"As you can see, I'm otherwise engaged at the moment. Why don't you call again later?" she said with mock politeness while spearing a Fang in the throat.

"This is important." He said, looking disdainfully at the growling creatures. The Fangs decided he was the easier target and forced him to draw his sword. He sighed as though it was all such a bother and jumped out of their range. He drew a glowing red ball from his coat and held it aloft.

"What are you-" Hawke said

"Shiva!" he cried out with a clear voice.

Expanding circles of glowing runes flashed around the materia he held. There was a burst of light and then a tall blue woman suddenly stood in front of him. Her light purple hair and scant clothing fluttered about her.

Hawke felt her stomach drop.

The blue woman cast an ice spell with a casual flick of her wrist and all the Fangs froze and smashed into smithereens.

"Now then," Genesis began as the icy bits of Fang rained down on them. "If you're quite finished-"

"Hello Hawke." Shiva interrupted him. He faltered and looked at her with complete surprise on his face.

"Hello Xebenkeck." Hawke said with a dangerous glint in her eye. "Missed me, have you?"

She laughed, the sound cold and venomous "I have, little Hawke. I have yearned to meet you again, that I might break your delicate mortal form and cherish the screams."

Hawke stood straight at her full height, her grip on her staff strong.

* * *

The summon spoke.

Genesis was desperately trying to make sense of the situation. Summons didn't speak. Everybody knew that. He had used summon materia more times than he could count and never once had they spoken, or even acknowledged anyone outside of the target. They came, fought, and then disappeared again the minute they or the opponent was defeated. They would also disappear if your mana was too low to command them, but Genesis' mana was so extensive that had never been a problem.

Yet Shiva was now threatening someone without his order, when his chosen enemy had already fallen. He was absolutely not going to lose Hawke, no matter how confused his Summon was.

"Shiva!" he stood between the two women, looking the Summon directly in the eye. "Stand down." he commanded, still holding the materia he had called her from.

"No." she said flippantly. A long silver spear materialised in her hand and_ horns_ appeared on her head, curling back from her face.

"I gave you an order." he was arguing with his own Summon. This was not according to plan.

She laughed at him. "I don't care, little mortal. I am already here; it is too late to change your mind now." she said, taunting him as she twirled her spear.

Hawke called out to him, "Genesis, you might want to draw your sword now."

"You fight on my orders. You will not attack her." he said, ignoring Hawke for the moment. "If you won't submit to my command then I shall simply cease to summon you."

She sneered at him. "This world has already trapped us within the Fade. We adhere to your precious baubles only for the brief glimpses into this realm." she said bitterly, walking around them in a wide arc, eyeing both of the humans. "But summoners come and go so quickly. If you fight alongside her, Mortal, then you shall also die alongside her."

"I will offer you one chance for mercy, Hawke." she said the word mercy as though it were something terrible, "If you bow to me, little mage, then the pain shall be brief before I take your life and claim your form."

Hawke snorted.

"If not," Shiva continued "then I shall spend years exacting vengeance for casting me out of Kirkwall."

Genesis narrowed his eyes and placed his hand upon his sword. He didn't know what she was talking about but obviously this was only going to end with a fight.

"Well now, let me see." Hawke said in a contemplative tone, her brows drawn together. A lightning bolt suddenly struck Shiva in the chest and she stumbled back gasping.

"Does that answer your question?" Hawke said with a smile.

Shiva struck back almost immediately. Genesis blocked her spear with his sword and then dodged an ice attack.

He dealt a flurry of strikes, most of which she parried or dodged. Shiva suddenly cried out in pain as Hawke plunged a dagger in the Summon's back. When had she gotten behind her?

Hawke immediately followed it up with a fire spell and then rolled away just as glistening shards of ice flew towards her.

Genesis slashed at Shiva just as she sent a barrage of icy spears at him at point blank range. He braced for the attack only for them to bounce harmlessly off a magical barrier. He could just see Hawke out the corner of his eye pointing her staff.

He and Hawke fought back to back against the Summon, alternating between melee attacks and magical bombardment. It was clear he had severely underestimated the woman's fighting prowess. She was no SOLDIER, yet she nimbly danced about the battle field while casting even faster than he could. She must have a horde of materia in that staff of hers, and probably all mastered as well given the exhaustive list of spells she was casting at incredible strengths. She cycled through all manner of attack types as though she had every force of nature at her fingertips. Some of the spells he couldn't even identify.

Shiva fought them both head on, soaking up injury after injury. He had wielded this Summon countless times, and even fought accurate copies of her in the virtual training rooms, never had she been this resilient or her attacks so brutal. He had never seen her use a weapon either, though it was clear she knew what she was doing. What's worse was that she was using his mana! He could feel it draining with every attack she threw, the endless reserves he had built up over the years now turned on him.

He was taking hits. The Summon had sent a barrage of frozen spears at him and while only one had gotten through it had slashed his side open. Still in the grasp of degradation he couldn't heal it and Hawke was running off her feet, her energy starting to wane. The dreaded faintness of his body's corruption started to seep into the edges of his vision. This fight had gone on long enough.

Hawke had reverted to lightning (she obviously had a natural affinity for it) and paired with his strongest fire attacks, Shiva was kept on the defensive. Hawke's erratic long ranged fighting style worked well with his flame charged sword work.

"Genesis, get back!" she yelled.

Having seen the wild nature of her massive electrical attacks he instantly threw himself well out of range. A dark maelstrom of swirling purple energy sprung up where Shiva stood. She tried to evade it but the whirlwind sucked her in and kept her at its centre. Lightning came down upon the maelstrom giving the energy a huge electrical charge that swirled around its victim. Genesis threw a mastered fire attack into the vortex, and watched as the three combined attacks pulverised the Summon. They could hear Shiva screaming over the powerful roar of the whirlwind.

Finally the attack settled. Shiva was left, broken and mangled on the ground.

"You haven't won, Hawke." the Summon gasped. "You will never be free of me. I will haunt your dreams until you give in. Whatever it takes…" she breathed in, a broken rasping sound, "I will break you."

Her body faded away.

It took all of his will not to collapse. Hawke sighed in exhaustion next to him. They were both filthy, covered in dirt, slowly melting icicles, and irregular streaks of blood.

"What was that?" He demanded.

"That was a whirling abyss with a pinpoint lightning storm, plus whatever fire attack you threw in." she said lightly, "Made for a rather nice combination I thought."

"Why did she attack you?" he said, trying not to grit his teeth against the pain. "She broke orders, she spoke! She called you by name!" None of this made sense. This woman was not leaving his sight until he got all his answers.

"Hey, you summoned her, don't come crying to me!" She shook her head and continued in a more subdued tone. "I'll tell you what I can, but not here. Let me heal that, you're going to pass out at this rate."

She reached out and he felt a brief wave of regenerative power wash over him. The injury at his side knitted itself back together but he was still verging on unconsciousness. Supplying the mana for both himself and the opponent had utterly exhausted him.

"Come on; let's get out of here before something else shows up." Hawke said as she started walking, "Or you spontaneously summon something again." she muttered darkly.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm trying to improve my writing and all critiques are welcomed :)_

_Next time: a Metaphysical Smack down._


	10. Personal Demons

_A/N: Dialogue! dialogue everywhere! I rewrote this a bunch of times because it wouldn't co-operate. I think this is the best we're gonna get. As usual, Thanks for all the feedback!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. _

* * *

**Chapter 10 **

Hawke strode wearily along the empty street. Genesis walked beside her and was equally tired though doing a better job of hiding it. He had said he wasn't leaving until he had his answers and he looked to be adhering to that. They were a block away from the hotel; she could already make out the tacky neon sign glowing in the dim light of early evening. She wasn't happy about bringing him to where she and Aerith were staying but she hadn't expected to stay out this late and didn't want to leave Aerith on her own for much longer.

At the very least she'd take a few precautions.

"Genesis." she stopped and faced him.

"Perhaps we could delay the discussion until we're actually inside." he said, looking around them.

"You're with Shinra." The direct approach seemed the best for now.

"Very observant of you. What of it?" he said with a distinctly fake sound lightness in his tone.

"I'm not particularly fond of Shinra. In fact, I'm actively avoiding them." Given why she was in Junon in the first place, leading a high ranking Shinra soldier to where Aerith was staying felt like giving her home address to a horde of darkspawn.

Genesis paused and looked at her. "I see. Why is that, exactly?"

"It doesn't matter. You need me for something, correct?"

"Yes."

"You're not getting so much as a friendly handshake unless I have your word that you'll keep this to yourself."

"You have nothing to fear, not from me anyway. You have my word I'll not tell a soul."

"Genesis." she said sweetly, "If you stab me in the back, I will give you every reason to regret it."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't take threats lightly, Hawke."

"Neither do I." She kept walking.

They reached the hotel and both trudged up the stairs. She had had quite enough of this particular adventure. The first time she had fought the Xebenkeck it had been with four friends at her back and a wealth of poisons and traps set up to even the playing field, this time it was just her and Genesis, with no gear beside her staff and daggers. She was now feeling the typical complaints of abused muscles after a good fight. It would have been delightful in its familiarity if the man walking beside her hadn't summoned the blighted demon in the first place.

At the very least she was going to give Genesis a piece of her mind before divulging anything. She unlocked the door and was met with the sight of Aerith sitting curled up on one of the couches watching the little television.

"Hawke! I didn't think you'd take- oh, hello." Aerith stuttered at seeing Genesis enter the room.

"Genesis this is Aerith, Aerith this is Genesis. Make yourself comfortable."

Hawke would normally start taking off her armour at this point, but with a fully armed SOLDIER in attendance it seemed unwise. She settled for removing her blood and dust encrusted gauntlet. Aerith turned off the TV and stood awkwardly in a corner, unsure on how to proceed. Genesis stood dramatically with his hands behind his back at the window and looked out at the lovely view of the next building's air conditioning unit.

"I believe you owe me an explanation, Hawke." he said, doing a fine job of covering his irritation at having to wait so long.

"I don't owe you a thing Genesis." she said sharply. "It was_ your_ pet demon that attacked me, so how about you start the explaining."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Very well. I've had the Shiva Summon for years. I've used it many times and not once has it disobeyed my orders, let alone attacked me. I couldn't have known that you'd angered it somehow, and I would hardly have gone through the effort of tracking you down simply to throw a Summon at you."

That sounded fairly reasonable she supposed but it begged a bigger question.

"Do you just go around summoning spirits all the time? Whenever you feel like it?" They weren't casual day workers for goodness sake! What was wrong with these people?

Her inquiry seemed to puzzle him.

"Whenever necessary, they're a useful weapon." he said, as though it were common knowledge. "Now you answer my question. Who are you? What have you done that even a Summon is holding a grudge against you?"

Hawke sighed and dragged a hand down over her face. She suspected the approaching conversation would be long and arduous.

"I'll explain, though you probably won't believe anything I have to say. I hope you don't have anywhere to be in the immediate future." She stepped into the tiny kitchen area and set some water to boil. "Tea?"

"I have as long as it takes Hawke." he deposited himself on the nearest couch. He declined the tea.

"You heard the Xebenkeck, what was it you called her, Shiva?" she asked, leaning against the bench with her arms crossed.

"Yes, Shiva, the Lady of ice."

"Right. Well, where I come from, we call her Xebenkeck the Undying. She's said to be one of the Forgotten Ones."

Genesis looked at her like she'd grown a second head.

" 'the Forgotten ones?' "

"Yup. So no tea?" clutching her steaming drink to herself she sat down on the remaining couch, Genesis watching her closely, and Aerith curiously looking back and forth between them.

"So, the Forgotten Ones." she continued, "Few people know about them, but amoungst those that do, talking about them is generally considered unwise. She's not just a 'Summon spirit' as you call her; she's a demon and an incredibly powerful one at that."

Going by Genesis expressions, she assumed he didn't believe a word she was saying. It didn't matter, he'd asked for the explanation and this was the only one she had.

"She, the Xebenkeck, Shiva, whatever, was lurking in Kirkwall. That's the city she mentioned, it's where I'm from. There were a few artefacts scattered about that gave her constant access to the mortal world. I destroyed them. They were essentially keeping a gate open for her, letting her freely come and go and wreak whatever havoc she liked in the under city. I closed the gate and banished her back to the Fade. Suffice to say, she did not appreciate it."

Genesis seemed to be finding this quite engrossing.

"You're saying she had permanent access to the world? Without the limitations of materia or even someone to command her?" He looked fascinated before the shroud of scepticism descended once more. "But to what end? Why would she even want to haunt this city of yours?"

"For the same reason she let you order her around, I'll wager. Demons hate this world, but they also crave it. Give them half a chance and they'll smash their way in and burn the entire place down. Every time you ask her to fight you're giving her exactly what she wants."

"Summons have always done as they are told. They have no investment in the fight; they simply adhere to the order of whoever commands the materia. They always have." He said, sounding more considering than sceptical.

"Did you order that cut on your side?" Hawke asked tartly.

He scowled.

"Maybe they've been turning on their wielders for years but nobody ever survived to complain about it." she said. "Regardless, I've spent most of my life fighting these things. Shiva herself said it; I booted her out of the Kirkwall and back to the fade."

He leaned back on the couch and gave her a thoughtful look.

"You keep mentioning this 'Kirkwall'. I have travelled all over Gaia, yet I have never heard of this city."

"It's not in Gaia. Kirkwall is in Thedas, in the Free Marches." Some part of Hawke hoped he would recognize the names.

"You're not from Gaia." he said with a raised eyebrow. "Do you truly expect me to believe that?" Hawke sighed.

"Believe what you like. I'm not going to lie to make you feel better."

"So you're an alien." he said in a tone that couldn't have been more condescending if he had tried.

"I don't know. I guess so. I'm a mage so it's not as though I was any more welcome on Thedas."

"What does this Thedas have against materia wielders?" Genesis seemed personally affronted by the notion, enough to overlook his cynicism for the moment.

"I don't use materia, Genesis. It doesn't exist where I'm from. That's what a mage is, someone with an inherent connection to the fade. I can summon up a whirling firestorm on willpower alone. So long as I know the technique and have the necessary mana reserves, the sky is the limit."

He leaned forward, looking intrigued. "Show me."

She pulled off her leather glove and held up her hand. A little blue mage light glowed in her palm; it was replaced by a small crackling ball of electricity, and then a flickering yellow flame. She closed her fist and the magic dissipated.

"Fascinating…" he said under his breathe, eyes still fixed on her hand.

"You're also connected to the fade, Genesis; chances are you don't need materia either. Not really."

He looked startled, and then a light seemed to go out in his eyes. He lowered his head.

"What do you mean by the Fade, Hawke?" he asked quietly.

She sighed and looked down as well.

"You already know what I'm talking about. The Fade is where you go when you dream. I've met you there several times."

"Dreams are just images created by the subconscious, nothing more." he said in a bleak voice, trying and failing to convince himself. She knew he hadn't wanted to believe what she had said in the fade about not being able to heal him, but she hadn't expected him to cling to his denial like this.

"You grew up with a boy who wouldn't steal from your apple trees because his honour wouldn't let him." Hawke said plainly. She didn't like being the bearer of bad news, but she wouldn't give him false hope.

He looked like he'd been struck.

"So the corruption…" he trailed off. Silence filled the room.

"What corruption?" Aerith asked curiously from her corner.

He abruptly looked up at her, seemingly having forgotten she was there. He took a moment to collect himself and then stood. He cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Hawke, for the explanation." he said, his voice empty. He inclined his head at her and then left.

* * *

The minute Genesis was gone Aerith had immediately peppered Hawke with questions. Hawke had deflected the vast majority of them and focused on ordering a very late dinner. When she remembered how hungry she was Aerith let the subject drop.

It wasn't until she had almost finished her box of Wutai cuisine that something occurred to Hawke.

"Aerith."

"Hmm?" the girl looked up at Hawke, distracted from the gardening show on the little screen.

"Do you have any idea how Genesis could have known we were in Junon?"

"No… oh. Uh, maybe." she blushed a little and fiddled with her chopsticks.

"Care to enlighten me?" Hawke asked, fairly certain she knew exactly where this was going.

"I left Zack a voice message on his phone." She offered meekly.

"Did you by any chance tell Zack _the Shinra employee_ where we would be going? You know, _to hide from Shinra?" _ Hawke was more resigned than angry at the teenager, but the sarcasm would not be repressed.

"I told him not to tell anyone!"

"I told _you_ not to tell anyone."

"I didn't want him to worry." Aerith said stubbornly.

"Maybe next time, you could tell him you're visiting a cousin? Delivering some flowers for a sickly Aunt perhaps? Or maybe going into hiding from the organization he works for?"

Both woman suitably irritated they focused on their noodles.

* * *

"Where is the Champion?" a cold voice rang out.

"I don't know! I'm telling you the truth, I don't know where she is!" a voice unmistakably Varric's cried out.

Hawke's vision cleared and she was immediately filled with dread. She was in the gallows courtyard, the rubble from her fight with Meredith scattered about everywhere, but all she saw was Varric, bound to a rack and surrounded by helmeted Templars. One of them pulled a metal rod out of a brazier, the end red hot. She couldn't let this happen, she had to save him!

"We know she trusted you, Dwarf. Tell us where she has gone." the Templar holding the brand approached. She couldn't move, why couldn't she get to him? Varric needed her! She felt as though she was forgetting something but panic over Varric was clouding her thoughts.

"I already told you, I don't know where she went! I haven't seen her since that day in the gallows!" Varric's voice was laced with pain. Oh maker, what had they done to him?

"We know you are lying. You will not leave this place until you tell us the truth."

Hawke was starting to panic; her best friend was being tortured and she didn't know what to do.

"I've told you everything I know! You have to believe me!"

"I will let you help him." a silky voice whispered behind her. Hawke spun around; there was nobody to be seen.

"Do you wish to rescue your loyal storyteller?" the voice whispered, soft and alluring. "I can give you the strength to do so."

"Yes! I'll do any-" Wait. She knew that voice. Hawke looked around her and wondered how the swirling green sky had escaped her notice. She wanted to slap herself; of course this was the Fade, she hadn't been in Kirkwall for months now.

"It's a trick. This is all just a trick." She said firmly. She would not fall prey to any demon.

The Xebenkeck appeared in front of her.

"I am simply showing you what has happened in your absence. Did you think the Chantry would not seek recompense? That your friends would not suffer in your stead?" The voice of the Xebenkeck echoed around her, no longer tempting but cold and cruel. "While you relax in Midgar, they scream and beg for mercy."

"No, Please!" Varric screamed. "Stop! I've told you everything I know!" Hawke turned away and tried to block out the sound, ignoring the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"No, it can't be. They wouldn't. Varric's too smart to get caught. And even if he was caught, he'd talk his way out of it." She said with forced confidence. "This, this is all just a lie made to break me." If she was wrong… no. It couldn't be real. It wasn't real and that was final.

The Xebenkeck laughed. "Oh little Hawke, how long can you lie to yourself?"

She looked the demon in the eye.

"Better my lies than yours." She plunged a dagger in the spirit's chest.

* * *

Hawke opened her eyes. She was in the hotel room's living room, draped over the couch in a position that was doing horrible things to her neck. She hadn't intended to doze off; sleeping in her armour was never comfortable.

She stood and stretched. Nightly temptations were not a new phenomenon. They didn't normally hit so close to home though. Usually she could see right through the demons and shrug it all off the next morning. She must just be out of practise. She could still hear Varric's screams.

'_Not real'_, she muttered to herself, '_None of it's real.'_

It was still dark. She had only been asleep for a couple of hours according to the flashing light on the microwave. She doubted she'd be sleeping again anytime soon. The little hotel room felt constricting and overheated. Remembering they were on the top floor, she fled to see if there was roof access, craving a breath of fresh air.

She found the door to the roof. It must have been padlocked at one point, but the lock was broken. The door swung open and she smiled at the rush of cold air that hit her. She stepped out onto the flat roof and marvelled at the vast expanse of stars above her. She had missed this.

Movement on her right caught her eye.

Genesis was sitting on the ledge.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! I'm trying to improve my writing and all comments and critiques are welcomed :)_

_Next Time: Nice Night for an Evening. _


	11. Rooftops and Weaponry

_A/N: Thanks for all the feedback guys!_

_Disclaimer: Not mine!_

* * *

**Chapter 11 **

Genesis' mind was in turmoil.

Hawke's trite explanations whirled around his head wreaking havoc on long held thoughts and assumptions. And yet she had sat looking at him so casually, sprawled over a dingy hotel couch, calmly drinking her tea. Despite desperately wanting to ask about his corruption, to demand a thorough explanation for how she had healed him and what it all meant, they were not alone. He wouldn't speak of it with an audience, Hawke might already know about his degradation but it wasn't something he was prepared to discuss in front of the curious teenager in the corner. Instead he swept out of the room.

A few hours later he was sitting on the waist high ledge of the hotel's roof. The sun had long set; a host of stars and the waning moon filled the heavens and reflected on the calm ocean below. Genesis stared out at the view, craving the tranquillity of the night sky. The wind wiped his coat around him; it felt like an acknowledgment of his whirling thoughts.

Hawke's bizarre account had certainly given him much to think over, (he would undoubtedly be spending the foreseeable future trying to cast spells without materia), but at the forefront of his mind was what this meant for his corruption.

The dreams had been real. Whatever the 'fade' was, he hadn't simply imagined meeting Hawke there. So he hadn't imagined her saying she couldn't heal him either.

Perhaps she was lying? She had healed his shoulder and then his side just this afternoon, why not the rest? But then why would she lie?

She didn't like Shinra. Maybe that was the reason. For all his dislike of the company he was still one of its most prominent figures. Could she be content to watch him fall apart if only to spite his employers? Even as the thought passed through his head he dismissed it. He might not have spent much time with Hawke, but he didn't think she would be so cruel. She had healed him twice already when she had no obligation to do so.

She had mentioned a brother. A brother who had died of degradation. If she had the means to heal it, she would have started with him.

So this was all a waste.

A bizarre and convoluted goose chase that had cost him precious time and seen him kill his own Summon.

Genesis didn't know if he wanted to drown himself in morose poetry or just burn the hotel down, magical aliens be damned-

Wait. A thought struck him.

If she wasn't from Gaia, then how could her brother get the corruption? Of all Shinra's SOLDIERs only he and Angeal had been created in such a way that resulted in degradation, and that was because of highly specific genetic modification while still in the womb. Even Sephiroth, who was only slightly different, wasn't subject to the degrading. If the brother's genetics were different then perhaps there was still hope?

He knew he was grasping at straws. Part of his mind condemned how pathetic it was, the other half didn't care so long as his death sentence was delayed. He had once thought that he could maintain his dignity regardless of circumstance. That was before he had been told in no uncertain terms that he was dying.

The door behind him creaked. He turned his head in time to see Hawke step out onto the roof. The teenage accompaniment was absent.

She looked up at stars, apparently not having noticed him yet, and sighed in what sounded like relief.

He wondered how long it would take her to notice she had company. Her head whipped around to face him. Apparently not long then.

"Genesis." she said, "You're not secretly homeless, I hope?"

She approached and leaned on a crate next to him.

"Hawke."

He really should have realised she was the same Hawke he spoke to in his dreams. She had the same mannerisms and attitude. She carried herself with the same resigned air of someone perpetually waiting for the next explosion.

He hoped he wasn't about to trigger one such explosion now.

"What happened to your brother?" he asked quietly. She seemed taken aback by the sudden question, but he wasn't in the mood for banter. He suspected it was a delicate subject, he just hoped she would be inclined to talk about it.

She sighed and looked down at her hands. The spikey gauntlet and leather gloves had been removed, exposing scarred and callous ridden fingers.

"He got infected. The blight got him."

Infected? He was fairly certain it wasn't contagious. He asked what the blight was. She was still looking down.

"Darkspawn. The taint." she looked up from her hands, as though remembering she wasn't conversing with herself. "There are these creatures, called Darkspawn, that are corrupted. They live underground and there are tens of thousands of them, if not more. They are mindless, decaying mockeries of life who destroy everything around them. If you get infected you join them. Carver… he must have had an open wound that..." She stopped, her bleak narration faltering.

"And it killed him." he finished for her.

"No. Well, yes, technically." At his confused expression she continued. "The corruption is a death sentence. There's no escaping it. Carver was recruited by the Grey Wardens, they can't cure the taint, but they can slow it down somehow. They're a secretive group, dedicated to fighting the darkspawn until they join the horde themselves. Carver could already be gone, I don't know." Her usually expressive face was cold and vacant. She looked lost.

The description she gave was chilling, but definitely not the corruption he had. Clearly he still had reason to be grateful.

"I am sorry for your loss." he said carefully. Her brother's death was obviously still painful for her; he didn't wish to come across as dismissive.

"There is no such blight on Gaia."

"Isn't there?" she asked.

"I was born with my corruption."

"It's taking its sweet time then." she said, shrugging off the ghost of her brother.

He narrowed his eyes. "No longer, I'm afraid. When you healed my shoulder, you reversed much of the damage. I would ask you to do so again."

She gave him a measuring look. "If it's not the Blight then what is it?"

He returned the measuring gaze. He might be indebted to her, but this wasn't something he explained casually.

"Don't give me that," she said at the look he was giving her, "I answered your questions, now answer mine."

"You cannot speak of this to anyone."

"Alright. You have my word."

"Shinra creates its enhanced SOLDIER operatives by injecting Mako into the bloodstream of adults. When the process was just being developed however, they experimented with injecting Mako, amoung other things, into an unborn child." Hawke looked horrified. "I am the result. As are the two other strongest SOLDIERs Shinra has. The process was flawed though, and now I am breaking down. My body is rejecting the enhancements it was born with and it is tearing me apart at the seams." He watched her face expecting to see pity but there was nothing but anger in her expression.

"Who do they think they are? They can't just-" she cut herself off and turned her head aside. A few minutes later she looked at him again, a thoughtful expression replacing her anger.

"When I healed your Shoulder, there was something there. Something vicious and malignant wrapped around your core and crushing you in its grip. It felt so much like the blight I assumed that it was."

"It cannot be. There are no darkspawn here. This is just the result of Shinra's arrogance and complete disregard for anyone other than themselves." he didn't care if his bitterness coloured his voice, there was no point hiding his hatred for the company.

"Bastards." she sounded genuinely sickened.

"Quite."

He looked out again at tiered city and the ocean beyond. The wind had dropped, leaving nothing but stillness. Hawke sighed.

"It probably won't work but… I can try to heal you, Genesis." she said. "I'm not much of a healer, I never have been. My skill isn't anything to write home about but I can try. If there's anything I can do…"

"I would appreciate it." More than he could ever say, though he suspected she knew that.

He left the ledge and stood facing her; unsure as to what exactly she had in mind. She stood directly in front of him.

"Alright, give me your hand." she said, taking his hand without waiting for him to comply.

"You have a terrible bedside manner."

"If you're very good, then afterwards you can have a lollypop." she said lightly.

He rolled his eyes. She held his right hand in her left, and lifted her other hand to his chest. She placed it just over his heart, her fingers sinking into the material of his uniform. Standing as close as they were he noticed she smelt like electricity and blackberries.

"Depending on how this goes, it may hurt a bit. Hopefully not, but if it does, terribly sorry."

"That is a great comfort." he said in a dry tone.

She closed her eyes. He watched her brow pull down in concentration and felt the tell-tale tension of magic fill the air. He felt a warmth grow somewhere in the depths of his chest.

Hawke tilted her head to the side in what looked to be confusion. That did not bode well. Her grip on his hand tightened.

The warmth in his chest spread in every direction and turned into a burning heat just edging on pain. Aches and pains he had learnt to live with sharpened for a moment and then faded away entirely, as did a strange numbness in his mind that he hadn't noticed was there. Everything felt sharper and more distinct, as though his very thoughts had been partially veiled from him.

Hawke's look of concentration had turned into an open grimace and she was breathing heavily.

She pulled away with a yell. He steadied her when she began to collapse.

She leaned back against a crate and tried to regain her breath. Genesis stood back and felt muscle stretch without pain for the first time in what was surely the longest year of his life. The relief was so great he had to stop himself from embracing Hawke in celebration.

"How are you feeling?" she asked when she had regained herself.

"I feel… whole." He was probably smiling like a fool. He didn't care. "I haven't felt this healthy in over a year. Thank you, Hawke." He said, bowing. "That didn't hurt at all."

She laughed, "Clearly you got the better end of the deal. Oh," she clutched her head in her hand, "I've fought sentient rocks that didn't hit that hard."

"I didn't hit you." he said, puzzled.

"No, but whatever's eating you did. I've done what I could Genesis, it's not gone, but you should last longer now."

That gave him pause. So it wasn't yet over after all. Still, he had a reprieve that he would not let go to waste.

"Do you know how long?" he asked.

"No idea. I guess if you just stay at home and knit then it'll probably be ages yet."

He chuckled, "Is that your recommendation then, Doctor? Take up knitting?"

"I hear it's very soothing." Hawke said lightly, before growing serious again. "Whatever you've got Genesis, it's vicious. Even the blight doesn't fight back like that." she shook her head and sat on the low crate beside her.

"I am in your debt, Hawke." he leaned back against the crate opposite her. He might not be completely healed yet, but he was far better than he had been. That bought him more time to find a permanent solution, for both himself and Angeal. In the meantime, he wasn't in any pain and in near perfect form. How refreshing.

"The goddess descends from the sky, wings of light and dark spread afar." he quoted quietly from memory, smiling at the familiar words that no longer sounded so ominous. "She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting…"

Hawke was looking at him oddly.

"Well that gift wasn't everlasting so try not to pick a fight with a herd of Dragons or anything. If you need a patch up, well, let me know."

"You are kinder than I could have hoped, Hawke. And it would be a pack of dragons, not a herd."

"Yeah well if I need a favour I'll let you know. And wouldn't it be a flock?"

"I will aid you however I can." he said while inclining his head "And no it wouldn't be a flock, that's absurd, they aren't geese."

"Of course not because a group of geese is called a gaggle. Maybe it's a murder of Dragons, like crows."

"Fitting, though I think a brood might be the proper term."

"Wouldn't that just be for a group of younger dragons?"

"You never get more than one old dragon so it hardly matters."

"Where exactly do you imagine the younger dragons come from Genesis?"

* * *

They were back in Midgar.

Aerith was glad. As much as she had enjoyed their stay in Junon, it was all a little overwhelming and certainly exhausting. Her first time out of Midgar and her first time under the clear blue sky; it had been glorious, but nothing could replace home, grimy and dark as it was. And it wasn't because she missed Zack, no matter what Hawke insinuated.

Well, it wasn't_ just_ because she missed Zack. She missed her mother as well.

Regardless, they had been back for a few days now and were slipping back into their comfortable routine. Reno had smirked at Hawke when they reached the church that morning and asked how their holiday had been. Hawke had loudly declared how much she enjoyed visiting Fort Condor and Reno had wandered off laughing.

After another morning of trying to cast a simple shield spell and not even the smallest amount of success, Hawke had gotten up and said they were going out. She'd refused to answer questions as to where or why, other than they weren't getting lunch.

Aerith followed along trying to guess where they were going. Hawke led her into Sector 6 and through streets she didn't recognize to a little store stuck in a wall. Aerith was no closer to guessing.

Hawke held the door open for her with a smile.

Aerith stepped in and gasped. The store was full of nothing but staffs. Lining the walls, in stands filling the room, there were all manner of magical staves, just beckoning her.

"I can't afford the high end staffs, Aerith, but you probably couldn't wield them anyway. If you search that end of the store and I'll search over here, I'm sure we'll find something perfect for you."

"Thanks Hawke!" She spun around and hugged the woman, before skipping to the back of the store. There were so many to choose from! Long ones, short ones, carved, rough, patterned, enchanted, with blades, materia slots, the options were endless. She had no idea what she preferred but eagerly looked through them all anyway. Behind her she heard Hawke say hi to the store owner who greeted her by name.

She wanted to try them out, to actually see how her magic felt coursing through them but that would draw too much attention. She didn't have any materia with her, (she didn't have any materia at all in fact) so she would just have to go by looks and prodding.

She was comparing a sanded birch staff that had a blue crystal set into the end with a staff of dark walnut with a bunch of red ribbons wrapped around one end. Hawke came and stood next to her.

"Never go for ribbons, they fray almost immediately and then the entire look is ruined." Hawke said.

"But it'll still work though right?" Practicality was key wasn't it?

"Yeah but if you can look great then why not?" she said with a laugh in her voice.

"You don't pick your clothes for looks." She said, looking at Hawke's spikey gauntlet.

"You don't really think my armour has this sexy fur hood for practicality do you?"

Aerith giggled before returning her attention to the task at hand. Even Hawke's peculiarities couldn't distract her from the lovely staffs surrounding her.

"So you think the one with the wings then?"

"That one will help with ice; birch wood always carries the cold splendidly." She held out a staff she had been holding behind her back. "What do you think of this one?"

It was bone white with a set of wings carved into the end, the tips of the wings pointing straight up.

"Oh Hawke it's beautiful!"

"It's made for spirit healers specifically, so you'll be even more impressive with this. It will also help with shields and force spells."

"It's so light!" Aerith exclaimed, holding it as she had seen Hawke hold her staff. She started to move it around.

"No twirling permitted inside the store." the store owner said from the counter, not even looking up from his book.

"Sorry! I think it's perfect, Hawke. It's not too much is it?"

"Don't worry about it. You're mother keeps me fed after all."

She took the staff to the counter where she placed it decisively on the desk. She was about to be the proud owner of her very own staff. She had no interest in fighting with it; she had no interest in fighting at all really. But staffs were the tools of someone magical; she liked to think the ancient Cetra wielded them, just like Hawke did. It was something she could carry that declared that she used magic without drawing attention or being strange. She was so excited.

"Will you be needing any materia to go with that, little lady?" The man behind the counter asked with a kindly smile.

"No thanks!" She smiled at him, "Just the staff please."

Hawke paid for it with a smile and then handed it to Aerith with a flourish. She spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how not to trip herself up while carrying it on her back. Finally Hawke took mercy on her and after she and the store owner stopped laughing, she gave her a few pointers and ushered her out of the shop.

They weren't three steps out the door when someone called out Aerith's name. Not a moment later Zack appeared from the crowd of passers-by.

"Aerith! I was just on my way to the church- hey! Nice staff! Brand new, huh?"

"Yup! Hawke bought it for me."

Zack suggested having lunch together in the church. Hawke politely excused herself and left, shouting back to Zack about how he better not be 'getting handsy' while she's away.

* * *

_A/N: thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm trying to improve my writing and all comments and critiques are welcomed. _

_Next Time: Happy Fun Slaughter Time! _


	12. Next Door Dreamers

_A/N: Thanks for the feedback guys! And I lied, Happy fun slaughter time will be next chapter. _

_Disclaimer: Not mine. _

* * *

**Chapter 12**

So this was the 'Fade.'

Genesis wandered through the strange land of his dreams. The knowledge that it was actually real on some level just made the swirling green all the more unreal.

It had been just over a week since he'd found Hawke in Junon. Now he was back in Midgar and wondering what exactly he ought to be doing. His joy at having been revitalized had been replaced with contemplation. Hawke could only provide a temporary fix, which meant the permanent solution was elsewhere. The question '_Now what_?' hung over him and he was yet to discover the answer.

He picked a direction and started walking. He brushed it off as mere coincidence when he noticed it was the same direction Hawke always came from.

He hoped he'd come across a monster or two. Not that he had ever encountered any here, but after a frustrating day it would have been appreciated. He'd spent far more time then he would admit in the Shinra training rooms trying to cast something, anything, without using materia. His efforts had produced no results other than making him feel (and probably look) like a fool. Clearly Hawke knew something he didn't, and that wasn't something he was going to stand for. At the very least he wanted to know how that vortex attack worked. The swirling storm of lightning and fire that knocked Shiva form the mortal realm would be a fine addition to his arsenal.

Given that one of his favourite Summons was now out of commission it was almost necessary. He'd removed his Shiva Summon materia from his collection with great remorse. It might have proven to be a dangerous and probably crazy spirit from another world but it had also been incredibly useful over the years. He wondered what that meant for his other Summons. Were they all the same demons Hawke talked about? What other demonic creatures roamed Gaia that nobody knew about?

The world suddenly held much more mystery for Genesis then it had in years. His insatiable curiosity had been rudely awoken and wouldn't slumber again until it was duly satisfied. He had a burning need to understand, to root out all the secrets that he might be a part of them, or at least use them to his advantage. Now that he knew dream-Hawke was in fact the genuine article, getting information should be much easier. He still didn't know what to make of half the answers she gave, but that just made him all the more curious. At least now there was no rush.

His wanderings had taken him to a little dell, below he could see Hawke.

She wasn't alone. Shiva stood behind her, whispering something in her ear. Hawke shook her head, a look of anguish on her face.

There were three men in front of her; she was so focused on them she didn't notice Genesis standing beyond them.

Of the three men the first Genesis noticed had pointy ears and tattoos as white as his hair, he was collared and shackled. A bearded man dressed in robes was handing money over to the third, a man in heavy armour holding a whip. The tattooed man looked so broken and defeated. What was all this? Going by Hawke's expression she certainly wasn't happy about the proceedings. Why was she just watching?

"It's not real, Xebenkeck." Hawke said in a voice that allowed argument. "Fenris would sooner die, and that slaver bastard is dead. None of this is real."

Shiva laughed gaily. The sound grated on Genesis' ears.

"Have you convinced yourself yet, little mage?"

Hawke turned her back on the scene in a clear dismissal.

The blue demon faded away, as did the three men, evaporating into the air around them.

Hawke hung her head, still not aware of her audience. Something occurred to Genesis.

"Why only Hawke?" he murmured to himself. It seemed odd; the spirit seemed intent on tormenting the woman but he had helped kill her as well. Why he was spared the Summon's ire? Not that he was complaining.

Shiva suddenly materialized in front of him. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword.

"Question, mortal?" she asked with a sly look.

"Why her?" he asked, genuinely curious, "I have ordered you around like a dumb beast for years and I helped her kill you. Why are you so focused on Hawke?"

"Feeling left out are you?" She ran her clawed hand down his cheek, he tried to bat her away but his hand passed right through her. "Do not fret, little Soldier. Another has staked their claim on you. I am sure they will collect in due time." She smiled darkly at him before fading away again.

He blinked at where the rogue summon had been. Failing to make sense of her words, he stored them away for later consideration.

"Genesis." Hawke was looking up at him. "You saw that." she wasn't asking.

"Friends of yours?" He asked; nodding to the where the three spectres had stood.

"One of them was. Or at least, that was a cheap imitation of him. Frankly, I'm insulted on his behalf."  
She said with a levity that didn't reach her eyes, "She's just trying to eat my soul, no big deal."

He walked down into the glen to stand across from her. She looked the same as she always did, fully armed and armoured, though she seemed tired. Odd, given that they were both technically sleeping.

"This happens regularly then?" he asked.

"It did back on Thedas. It's less common here. In Kirkwall I'd enter the Fade to find the demons practically queuing up to offer me terrible deals. Apparently I'm quite the commodity." she said bitterly.

"Ever accepted the deal?"

"Maker, no! What part of 'she wants to eat my soul' did you misunderstand? No, heck, I've made a career killing blood mages, not exchanging notes with them."

"Is that what you do?" He couldn't be surprised she fought for a living; she wore her armour like a second skin. "Blood mages, I take it they use magic fuelled by these demons then?"

"_Taught_ by demons. _Fuelled_ by blood. I thought that bit was rather obvious. That's where all the forbidden arts come from, tricks like mind reading, or even mind altering if you're sneaky about it."

Genesis was supremely glad that no such magic existed on Gaia. Any power of the sort would be immediately seized by Shinra, and he shuddered to think what the power hungry company would do with such abilities. Although, it was a shame he would never get to see this foreign magic.

"I was unaware such things were possible, though I can see why it would be forbidden. By the sounds of it your magic rather outstrips ours." Genesis said, unaware of how his eyes gleamed, "Your armies must be terrifying."

"Nothing special actually." she said with a shrug, "The only mages that are terrifying are typically the murderous blood themed sort, the kind I'm paid to inconvenience. The rest are all just trying to stay on the Templars' good side."

"I would think _they_ should be trying to stay on _your_ good side." he said haughtily.

Hawke tipped her head back and laughed.

"Oh Genesis, you'd do terribly in Kirkwall. Mages are required by law to live under lock and key. The Templars are there to make sure we behave ourselves. If they think you're a threat then you won't live long enough to prove them right."

"Are you saying you live in a prison? You truly let them treat you like that?" He certainly wouldn't have stood for it. "What an appalling waste."

"Well not me specifically, I'm an apostate. An illegal mage, living outside of chantry parameters. I've spent most of my life in hiding. I grew up pretending not to be a mage."

"So you just hid, even though you have both the skill and the weapons to defend yourself. I'm a little disappointed, Hawke." he said in a tone that was mostly teasing. She snorted.

"Half of my family were apostates. We wouldn't have stood a chance if we confronted the Templars. They'd have drained our magic and then promptly arrested us for the heinous crime of existing without permission. And that would have left my poor mother with nobody but Carver for company. Nobody deserves that."

"Your world sounds very depressing."

"Thank the maker I ended up on Gaia then." she said, her voiced drenched in sarcasm.

A moment passed as Genesis contemplated her. Despite her insistence he had a very hard time picturing Hawke hiding from anyone. She didn't carry herself like someone living in fear; and she had never cowered away from him, many others certainly did. The number of scars visible on her arms alone were testament to a life lived on the edge, not cowering at home.

"You really don't act like someone in hiding, Hawke."

She sighed and sat on the destroyed remains of a pillar.

"I'm not hiding. Not anymore. I earned a name for myself, eventually." she said, "Money, a fancy estate, even a title to match. The Templars let me be; I was too famous, or too useful to be dragged down to the gallows. Of course by then it was too late. I was the only one left."

She was looking at the ground and clearly not seeing it. Genesis knew that look; it was common to a lot of the men after the war with Wutai. It spoke of someone who had survived all manner of horrors while watching their comrades fall, someone who had lost so much they didn't know what to do with the few pieces left to them. He didn't like seeing that look on Hawke.

"You have a title?" he asked, steering the conversation away from more painful discussion.

"Yeah, technically." she said, looking up. "Not the sort where I get respect or money, or heaven forbid any actual authority. I was just the city's Solver of Inconvenient Problems." her usual jovial tone returned.

"Sounds very official." he said dryly.

"Champion of Kirkwall." she said, spreading her arms. "The city was very proud."

"Champion?" He had never heard the word used as a title before. Then again official titles outside the military were an outdated practice on Gaia. Recalling how she looked as the lightning imbued warrior who had fought back to back with him against Shiva, it seemed fitting.

"Yeah Mr 'Warrior Poet', Champion. That's what I get for poking my nose into everyone else's business. More trouble than it's worth really." she said, brushing dust off her shoulder. "Actually, speaking of Kirkwall, I wanted to ask you a favour."

"Oh? What do you need?" It seemed he would get to repay her sooner than anticipated.

"I need to get back. To Kirkwall, that is." She dragged a hand down over her face. "I just don't know how to go about it."

"What makes you think I would know?" He hadn't even heard of Kirkwall a fortnight ago.

"I don't expect you to know, but you might be able to help me find out. If nothing else you know how things work here. I don't have any resources or contacts, just enough know-how to get through the day."

"I see." This was a problem. If she left then he would have nowhere to turn should he or Angeal be injured. She was his only solution so far, and he was loath to risk losing that. However, there was no denying that he was incalculably in her debt. At the very least he would help her search, there was no guarantee she would be leaving immediately anyway.

"I will help you however I can Hawke. Although you will need to tell me more about your world first."

"Thank you. And you were going to ask that anyway." she said with a grin.

"Perhaps."

* * *

Meeting Genesis in the Fade soon became a regular event. Hawke found she rather enjoyed bickering with him. At first they had discussed Thedas at length. He had asked how she ended up on Gaia and she answered in the most succinct manner possible, telling him only about the magical lyrium sword that shattered. Endless discussion and theorizing brought them to the conclusion that neither had any clue what happened, or how to fix it. He said he would continue to look into it, though he hadn't had much luck.

After asking an absurd amount of questions something had occurred to Genesis. He declared her world to be 'pre-industrial' with more patronization than previously thought possible. He then exclaimed how impressed he was that she could keep up with the oh-so-advanced people of Gaia when her own world was so rudimentary. She threw an equally rudimentary gravity spell at him and watched him smack face first into the ground.

He eventually told her about being a SOLDIER and Shinra itself. He seemed to be relishing the fact that nobody would ever know what he said in the fade and made a point of spilling Shinra's secrets almost for the sake of it. In light of the things he told her, she could understand wanting to stab the company in the back. His resentment against them had him pacing back and forth in agitation while he spoke.

The SOLDIER proved to have something of an explosive temper, and Hawke wasn't remotely fazed by it. A conversation about chocobo breeding of all things had devolved into a spirited yelling match. As absurd as the entire situation was (she neither knew nor cared for anything about the breeding of chocobos), it had been delightful to get into a real argument with someone who wasn't going to get offended or burst into tears. Her friends from Kirkwall had never agreed on anything, all this time surrounded by Aerith and her mother who were always so polite and agreeable went against everything Hawke considered normal.

Genesis clearly thought his own opinions were above scrutiny and Hawke was just thrilled to prove him wrong. They hadn't agreed on anything since and were now friends.

After talking about fighting styles the night before, she had mentioned how much she missed the brutal fights she used to have so regularly. He had agreed that the slums lacked any real threats these days. After looking thoughtful for a moment Genesis made an absurd suggestion which she immediately agreed to.

That was why she was currently waltzing straight into Shinra headquarters. Aerith was feeling under the weather and Hawke was determined to enjoy a day of gallivanting.

She looked around at the ostentatious design of the massive lobby. Clearly restraint wasn't the company's strong point. The entire building spoke of excess in everything but humility. They would get along splendidly with the nobles of Kirkwall.

She spotted Genesis, standing next to the desk of a clearly unnerved clerk. The poor lady seemed to be caught in a struggle between asking him for a signature or running away in fear.

"Genesis." Hawke said as she approached.

"You're late." he said, his arms crossed.

"Yeah well, I thought you meant the other horizon obliterating skyscraper."

He rolled his eyes and led the way to the nearest elevator. Hawke could feel the indignant eyes of the desk clerk trying to burn holes in her back. Perhaps she would appear in a gossip magazine tomorrow. She could already see it: 'Mysterious woman stands next to Commander Rhapsodos!'

They numbers in the elevator ticked by.

"So," she started, "Are we allowed to be doing this?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Oh, what fun. I love breaking and entering."

"We are not breaking and entering; I'm simply taking liberties with the policy on visitors. These levels are all restricted to SOLDIER."

The elevator doors opened to reveal a bland hallway.

"Well, this empty corridor is clearly very important. Wouldn't want anyone finding out about it."

Genesis just shook his head and began navigating their way through the identical hallways. How everyone wasn't constantly lost Hawke had no idea. They walked swiftly along, the carpeted walls absorbing the sound of their footsteps. Occasionally they passed SOLDIERs, some saluted Genesis; while others, mostly the younger ones, did a terrible job of pretending they weren't staring. She could hear the wave of whispered gossip behind them. It took all of Hawke's restraint to not chuckle.

This reminded her of strolling into the old Qunari compound, with all their steely gazes pinned on her as though the sheer force of their indignation might make her spontaneously combust. Or perhaps wandering through the gallows courtyard, with the Templar's awkwardly looking at her mage's staff, brazenly displayed like a challenge, knowing they weren't brave enough to arrest her. Not that the SOLDIERs seemed antagonistic, just far more curious than they probably ought to be.

They finally reached their destination. A non-descript door, leading into a large metal room.

"We have arrived." he said, gesturing grandly.

"This is a lovely empty room Genesis."

"Ye of little faith." he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "I'll set up the simulation and hopefully your medieval little mind can handle it."

She snorted.

"All right. Impress me." she said, wearing her best I-am-not-impressed face.

He smirked before pulling out his phone and tapping a few commands into it.

Suddenly the room around them changed, the plain metal walls disappearing entirely. In their place was a lush forest. The sounds of wildlife and the smell of trees and plants filled the air, with soft rays of light filtering down through the canopy.

It took all of Hawke's restraint not to let her jaw drop. Even the ground which had been plain metal was now spongy moss and fallen leaves.

"What- How did… huh." How did they create such complex illusions without using magic? She checked, but there was no feel of magic at all. No wonder these people ruled the world.

"Consider yourself impressed." Genesis said, sounding very smug.

"I'll admit it, I did not see that coming. What is this?"

"The Virtual Reality training room. Are you ready to kill some monsters?" he said, drawing his sword.

After a thorough explanation which didn't satisfy any of Hawke's questions they began stalking through the undergrowth. The room was set to 'random encounters' and had no limit cap on the number of monsters it could throw at them.

Hawke pulled out her two main daggers, brimming with anticipation for a fight.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm trying to improve, comments and critiques are welcomed :)_

_Next Time: Happy Fun Slaughter Time (for real this time)_


	13. Recreational Violence

_A/N: Thanks for all the feedback :) _

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

* * *

**Chapter 13**

This 'Virtual Reality' business was awesome, thought Hawke.

The forest around them felt alive and breathing. Silently prowling for monsters had all the thrills of a real hunt. The scenery reminded her of the Kokari Wilds; Endless swamp masquerading as a charming forest, with all sorts of nasties just waiting to jump out at you. The only inaccuracy was the humidity; a rainforest like this ought to have been hot and muggy leaving them drenched within minutes. Instead the air had the feel of a nicely air conditioned gym. She wished all forests could be so accommodating.

Traipsing through the undergrowth she felt a tingling on the back of her neck that said they were being watched. Hawke and Genesis weren't the only predators about. So far they had only encountered small and easily dispatched creatures (none of which she could identify), but the fights were getting progressively more challenging.

They were currently being swarmed by flying insects each the size of a cow and resistant to electrical damage. A few overpowered gravity spells grounded most of the monsters and she and Genesis sliced through them ruthlessly. She fought well alongside the swordsman. She did the sneaking and the zapping and he did the hacking and the slashing. Of course, Genesis also set everything on fire, so that was a plus too. The initial focused tension had melted away into competing for the most interesting kills. Genesis' dark energy spell had the monsters melting; while her crushing prison attack had them exploding in a rain of colourful innards that always seemed to land on the SOLDIER. All told she was having a marvellous time, despite being covered in insect guts.

"Wait, wait, it turned you into a _frog_?" she asked, ducking under an attack.

"If you tell this to anyone Hawke I swear I'll shred you into a thousand tiny pieces." He said as he sliced a monster in two.

"Of course you will, but seriously, a frog?" The tale of one of his first missions to a similar area had her trying her best not to laugh at him.

"There were stories of the little fiends turning people into frogs but I assumed it was nonsense. How could it be otherwise? As it turned out they do in fact have a spell that changes your shape but only if they feel threatened and you're within close range." he threw a fire spell and a glare that just dared her to laugh.

"So what did you do?" one of her weighty earth spells had the creatures encased in brittle stone which she gleefully went about smashing.

"I hopped away obviously." he said with a roll of his eyes. Hawke lost the struggle to not laugh. "I got better." he added.

"I've heard of shape shifters back home but they're pretty rare." she said when she had recovered her decorum. "Even then I don't think they can turn other people into different forms."

"How would you even go about such a thing?"

"No idea. The chantry doesn't teach it, and the Tevinters think it's too barbaric to be worth their time. I met an old lady who could turn into a dragon once." Mysterious old Flemeth, she wondered what became of her. "Then again, she might have just been a dragon that could turn into a lady. It's hard to tell with these things."

Genesis seemed intrigued. "Turning into a dragon at will, how useful. Imagine flying over the battlefield, reigning fire down from above." Given the amount of carnage he was already dishing out, Hawke thought that would be wholly unfair on his enemies. They were running out of monsters as it was.

"I asked her to teach me but had to settle for getting a ride instead."

"I can't tell if you're serious or not."

"Dead serious. She gave us a lift out of Lothering and in return I made a delivery for her. I kept waiting for the deal to backfire but the whole thing went over surprisingly well."

"You find yourself in the most absurd situations, Hawke."

"You're the one who got turned into a frog." she said with a laugh.

He scowled and impaled the last giant insect.

After a few hours of fighting they opted to take a break. Genesis was barely tiring, the SOLDIER's enhancements were beyond anything Hawke could even hope to compete with, but her magic was still consistently stronger so her pride lived to see another day.

She sat on a relatively un-trampled patch of moss, and leant back on her hands. The corpses of the various monsters had all faded away, leaving the forest clean if rather worse for wear.

Genesis stabbed his sword into the ground and sat on the broken trunk of a fallen tree.

"You know, every mage I know fights with a staff." she said. "It's so bizarre seeing someone throw spells while swinging a sword around."

"You don't always fight with a staff." he said, nodding at her daggers which rested on the ground next to her.

"No, but I don't count. Rules are for other people. Like you."

He scoffed and crossed his arms.

"Every SOLDIER fights with a sword. I have an incredible affinity for materia but I am a SOLDIER first and foremost." he said solemnly.

"An 'incredibly affinity' huh?" she asked with a raised brow.

"The very first time I held a materia I set my mother's flower bed on fire."

"Was it on purpose?" she asked, chuckling.

"No, though I was hardly repentant. I had found the materia earlier and brought it home. I was just holding it, wondering how it worked." he sounded wistful.

"And then no more petunias."

"For a twelve year old with no mana reserves, that's very impressive." he said in a haughty tone.

"I was thirteen when I first showed my magic. I sneezed and a tree blew up."

He laughed and shook his head, "You must be terrifying when you've got a cold."

"I do have a_ little _more control these days. Now when I blow things up, it's usually on purpose." Hawke said with a smile.

"I can see that. So why bother with the daggers?"

"Because a staff screams 'I'm a mage, please arrest me!' That and we only had one staff and my sister couldn't control her magic without it. When I was fifteen I convinced a priestess from the local chantry to teach me how to fight with daggers so I wouldn't have to risk blowing my cover."

"A priestess? Is that normal?" he asked.

"It's not normal at all. I caught her practicing by herself out in the woods one day and demanded she teach me or I would rat her out to the Reverend Mother." She said.

He gave her an incredulous look. "So you, a teenage girl, alone and incapable of fighting, threatened someone who was in the middle of combat practise?" He laughed in a distinctly mocking manner. "I can't even bring myself to be surprised, Hawke."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." she said, rolling her eyes at her younger self's folly. "Fortunately she took it in stride, said my attempts at manipulating her were 'simply darling' and promptly gave me my own dagger set. I think she just wanted someone to spar with."

"I can't tell if your luck is amazing or simply awful."

"Awful. Trust me." and there was no lack of evidence.

"Then it matches your armour." he drawled.

"You take that back, my armour is clearly fabulous." she said in mostly artificial indignation. "You're the one fighting in a trench coat. We're indoors; it's probably not going to rain."

Genesis apparently didn't consider that worth answering. He stood and they resumed the hunt. He changed the settings to generate one last monster, a 'boss fight' he called it.

There was no need to searching this time. After mere seconds a giant creature with too many spine covered limbs came barrelling through the undergrowth.

Both rolled away and began attacking. The whatever-it-was (there were far too many types of monsters in this place, how did anyone keep track of them all?) was no push over and kept both of them on their toes. Only Hawkes lightning fast shield casting and Genesis' frankly ridiculous reaction speed kept them from getting pummelled. Eventually though the two of them did manage to grasp the upper hand. A good deal of stabbing and burning and electrocuting later, the creature began to weaken. With a little more breathing room now, Hawke spoke again.

"This thing reminds me of the Varteral. It's a giant undying mantis thing. I've killed it twice already. I wonder if it'll be up and kicking again by the time I get back to Kirkwall." she said, holding up a shield spell as one of the monster's limbs stabbed at her.

Genesis sliced another of the limbs clean off.

"My friend, do you fly away now, to a world that abhors you and I?" he quoted, beginning to sound frustrated. "Why do you want to go back to Thedas at all? You said it yourself; you're an apostate, a second class citizen guilty of 'existing without permission'." he said between taking stabs at the creature and parrying the return jabs. "Why would you want to return to that?"

"I've built a life there." _A life that was torn to pieces alongside the chantry_, her traitorous mind whispered. "It's my home, I belong there."

"It doesn't want you." he said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"No world wants me, Genesis." she said with a cold smile as she stabbed the creature in the back. "I'm not waiting for an invitation."

"Gaia isn't entirely opposed to your presence." he said airily.

She snorted, rolling out of the way of an attack. "Gaia doesn't know what it's getting itself into."

"And if you can't go back?" he asked.

Hawke stilled suddenly, her expression closed off. She made a grasping motion with her hand; a giant ethereal gauntlet appeared over the monster, completely encasing one of its shoulders in a huge glowing fist. The monster struggled, trapped and confused. Hawke gestured with her other hand and a second glowing gauntlet appeared, seizing the monster's other arm in time with her movements. With a mighty tug the creature was torn completely in two.

The gauntlets faded away, leaving the shredded remains of the monster spilled over the ground.

Genesis stared at her.

She didn't often use that attack. It was exhausting and took a lot of build-up, but she couldn't deny how satisfying it was. Brutally tearing something apart could be very cathartic.

"That's an impressive limit break." Genesis said, sheathing his sword.

A polite cough drew their attention.

Standing calmly behind them was a tall black haired SOLDIER with a massive slab of a sword on his back. He was giving them both a reprimanding look.

"Afternoon, Angeal. What can we do for you?" asked Genesis, casually flicking his hair out of his face. Around them the simulation ended and disintegrated back into bland metal walls.

"I was looking for you Genesis." Angeal said in a neutral tone. "I'm not interrupting something, am I?" he looked at Hawke curiously.

"Training." Genesis said dismissively.

"I see." their visitor crossed his arms. "You do know of course that this area is restricted to SOLDIER members only?"

"She's here with my permission."

"Oh is that how that policy works?" Angeal asked in a dry tone.

"Did you need something Angeal?" Genesis said pointedly.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to train, but I can you're busy. I'll let you and Miss…?"

"Hawke." she smiled at him.

"Miss Hawke, I'll let the two of get back to it. Try not to blow up another training room Genesis."

* * *

Sephiroth stood in Angeal's office, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Angeal was studiously watching a recording of Genesis fighting a monster simulation in the VR room.

"Angeal, are you _spying_ on Genesis?" Surely not. Angeal was honest and straight forward. Genesis was the crafty one. Wasn't spying on a friend dishonourable?

Angeal looked up, apparently only just realising what he was doing. "I suppose I am. That woman used an attack I wanted to see."

"There are no female SOLDIERs." Sephiroth said after a pause, shelving his friend's unusual behaviour for later consideration.

"She calls herself Hawke, apparently. I've no idea who she is." Angeal said, looking back to the screen, a puzzled look on his face. "Genesis was fighting with her in the training room."

"That's a breach of protocol." Hardly unusual for Genesis. Fighting with someone outside of the three of them however, was highly unusual. There were very few people Genesis associated with intentionally and he made no secret of it. That he would deign to fight alongside someone who wasn't even a SOLDIER was unheard of.

"You know Genesis only cares for rules when it's someone else breaking them." Angeal said offhandedly.

Curious as to what brought about such unprecedented behaviour in his two fellow SOLDIERs; Sephiroth stood next to Angeal and watched the screen.

"Her technique's good." he said, watching the monochrome figures dance back and forth around their opponent.

"She's quick too." said Angeal.

"Regardless, I don't see why we're watching this." A woman with a wealth of materia, it was hardly life changing.

"Hang on there's a limit break that- there it is."

They watched as the black and white recording of Hawke conjured up the two ethereal gauntlets and ripped the monster apart on strength of will alone.

The recording ended and both stood in silence. What on Gaia was that? He didn't recognize the limit break, or anything it might be based on. Sephiroth had fought more battles then he cared to recall but that attack was completely unfamiliar to him. He could direct energy through his mastered materia with the best of them but this was something else entirely.

"What materia could possibly do that?" he asked, voicing his thoughts.

"A Summon perhaps?" Angeal said, sounding equally baffled.

"Two disembodied arms? Unlikely." Summons were creatures, foreign ones admittedly, but living beings none the less.

"Either way I think that might explain why Genesis dragged a civilian into the training rooms of all places."

"You think she's some sort of materia expert?"

"You could say that." an amused voice spoke from behind them. They both turned to find a smirking Genesis leaning against the door frame.

"Genesis." Sephiroth greeted.

"Finished spying?" he asked cordially.

"Finished flaunting security protocols?" asked Angeal.

"She could be a spy for all we know." said Sephiroth.

"She's not a spy." Genesis said with a roll of his eyes, "What do you take me for?"

"Then who is she?"

"Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds." He said grandly. At the dead pan looks they sent him he elaborated, "She's a friend."

"And you snuck her into the VR room because..?"

"It was hardly sneaking. We walked through the corridors and opened the door."

"So that's what all the third classes were gossiping about." said Angeal, rubbing his temple.

"You didn't answer the question." Sephiroth said.

"As you said, she's a materia expert. We were comparing techniques."

"What was that limit break she used?" Sephiroth asked. He trusted Genesis and sneaking into the VR rooms was practically routine; but now he was curious.

"You mean you don't know, General?" Genesis drawled with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you?" he said with his arms crossed.

"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess." Genesis said with a smirk. "Now, I believe we have a mission to plan?"

Knowing they'd get nothing more out of him, they discussed Angeal and Genesis' upcoming mission to rocket town. It was mundane and undemanding work; Sephiroth found his thoughts drawn to the mystery he had been presented with.

The more he thought about it, the more out of place that limit break seemed. It hadn't appeared to be sourced from any of her equipment, just solidified energy abruptly forming in the air and following her commands. Materia channelled mana into particular elements and abilities, how you wielded it was entirely a matter of control. The level of control required to force the resulting magic into a specific shape was immense. What materia could create and control a solid object?

A few months ago, Genesis had mentioned materia free magic.

Had he discovered something? Genesis hadn't spoken of it since, but then he was also fond of unnecessary secrecy. The man had been a collection of secrets all year. It started with the wound that couldn't be cured by materia, the wound that disappeared without explanation. Now this, a magical attack that defied everything he knew about the use of materia.

Sephiroth was connecting the pieces.

* * *

"Here's your usual, Hawke." said the bartender, plonking her pint down with a crooked smile.

"Thanks, Karen." Hawke said, wondering when she had become a 'usual'.

The Fat Chocobo was a quiet tonight leaving her to sit and stew over her watery beer in peace. She was feeling the ache of overworked muscles and the mental strain of rapid-fire casting from the previous day's romp through Shinra's virtual playground. She sighed in contentment, taking a generous sip. Reno hadn't arrived yet, he might not show up at all. If nothing else the Turk was consistently inconsistent. On quiet evenings Hawke would sometimes join the ongoing poker game happening upstairs, or she might bother the other regulars. Perhaps tonight she'd just sit and enjoy the peace and quiet-

"I'm here, I'm here, nobody panic." Reno slid onto the chair next to her.

"Oh thank the Maker; I was going spare with worry." Hawke said with a yawn.

The barkeeper returned to take Reno's order and delivered a strict warning about behaving himself and the thorough beating he would receive if he didn't.

"Shesh, you start one little bar fight and suddenly everyone's getting all touchy." he said with a sigh.

"You're lucky they let you back in at all." She said. The only reason she had never been kicked out of the Hanged Man was because she and her friends brought so much revenue. Corf had definitely threatened often enough though.

"So," Reno began with a smirk that had Hawke wondering if she should be mapping out the exits "how was the VR room?"

Word obviously got around quickly. Reno was an accomplished gossip so she couldn't be too surprised, not that she'd been particularly subtle in the first place.

"Fabulous. Why do you ask?" she said.

"You really don't know how to lay low do you?" he said with a crooked grin.

"Sure I do. But even I get bored sometimes." always, in fact. How she'd lasted this long as a reasonably normal civilian she had no idea.

"Fair enough." he said. "Didn't know that you and Rhapsodos were friends." he took a chug of his freshly opened beer.

"Eh, sometimes we get together and kill things. You know how it is." she said.

"Heh, the best kind of friendship." he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gave her a calculating look. "Hey, a piece of advice." he said with a slightly more serious expression, "I wouldn't go leaving your little friend all on her own these days. Midgar's just crawling with nasties."

"I don't need to go Holidaying again do I?" Hawke asked, supressing a sigh. She didn't have enough money saved up for another trip to Junon.

"Na, but maybe don't go sneaking into the Shinra building either."

"Oh fine." she sighed dramatically. "But it'll be your fault if I have to resort to petty acts of larceny for amusement."

He was probably right, it drew too much attention. Such a shame, she had quite the taste for slaying monsters.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm trying to improve the quality of my writing and all comments and critiques are welcome :)_

_Also, regarding the 'limit break' Hawke used in this chapter, go watch the Dragon Age 2 trailer called Destiny and you'll see what I'm on about._

_Next Time: Incineration. _


	14. Playing with Fire

_A/N: I'm really nervous about this chapter, I can't tell if it was a hit or a miss. Regardless, thanks for all the feedback! _

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. _

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Hawke sat lazily against the curving Banora white tree. She always sat under this one, it was the most comfortable.

She was becoming very familiar with this corner of the fade. It no longer seemed odd that the air was green. The red earth seemed perfectly regular, even the trees that didn't know which way was up had a comfortable familiarity to them. The revelation that this was normal however was in fact very uncomfortable. So she chose not to think about it.

She fiddled with the phone she had been coerced into buying. Elmyra had insisted that it was a necessity, despite the fact that Hawke had no idea what she was supposed to do with it. She wasn't sure if the Fade representation of the device was accurate but it hardly mattered since she could barely use the thing anyway.

Genesis meanwhile, was pacing under the canopy provided by the trees. She had asked how the search into his cure was going and received a sigh and a recital for her trouble. No breakthroughs so far then, if she was interpreting 'Pride is lost, wings stripped away, the end is nigh' correctly. She was going to have that blighted poem memorized fairly quickly at this rate.

"What exactly do you do, Genesis?" she asked in the peaceful silence. It was probably a silly question but everyone said 'SOLDIER' like it meant something. There were so many things she was assumed to have understood that still made very little sense to her.

"I'm a SOLDIER." He said, giving her an odd look. "I thought you'd noticed."

"Yes but what does a SOLDIER do? It's not just a regular army is it? I've heard a lot about SOLDIER honour and being a hero but that's not terribly specific." she was pretty sure 'hero' wasn't actually a job title.

"We are the elite; we fight Shinra's wars for them. In peace time we protect people by keeping the monster populations in check."

"What is with all the monsters here? There are so many of them, and they're all so bizarre. Half of them seem almost unnatural."

"That's because they're not natural. Monsters are creatures corrupted by mako. They thrive wherever there are reactors or natural springs." He shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Just like SOLDIERs, they are strengthened and twisted by the mako flowing through them. We are monsters, created to kill other monsters."

Had she met him a few years ago she'd have told him he wasn't a monster. She would have insisted that what Shinra had done didn't change who he was. She was no longer so naïve. Painful as it was, he did have something monstrous growing inside of him and neither of them knew exactly how that was going to manifest itself. She hoped he wouldn't be overcome by whatever it was but she couldn't bring herself to believe it. This road was both foreign and yet far too familiar.

"SOLDIER sounds a lot like the Grey Wardens." she said, hoping for at least a slight deviation in subject.

"The order your brother joined?" he asked, looking contemplative.

"Yes. Infected with the blight, they're the only ones who can combat it. They give their lives to fight a threat the rest of us could never stand up against. Heroes, one and all." and she couldn't have been prouder.

"Doomed Heroes. My friend, the fates are cruel." he said, with a bitter smile.

"That's why they're heroes." she said simply. "There's nothing particularly heroic in fighting something that can't hurt you. That's just pest control."

"Shinra would disagree." he said with a laugh, "Haven't you heard? Shinra's greatest hero, the mighty General Sephiroth, is both untouchable and infallible."

"Shinra can go die of lyrium poisoning. Nobody is infallible."

"Clearly you're not from Gaia." he said dryly. "Speaking of Sephiroth, he and Angeal were highly intrigued by your limit break the other day."

"Ah. They saw that, huh?" she said nervously. She wouldn't have done it had she known they had an audience.

"They wanted to know how you do it."

"I just think about it really hard."

Genesis gave her an intent look.

"Without materia, mana is unstructured. How do you give it shape on your own?" he asked, clearly very curious.

"Bring your friends around some time and I'll be happy to explain it to them." she said leaning back against the tree. The exasperated look on his face had her smiling like the trouble maker she was.

"Did you want something Genesis?" she asked pleasantly.

He scowled at her. She smirked.

"Fine." he said petulantly. "Would you please show me how to cast without using materia, oh kind and gracious Hawke?" he asked in a biting tone.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." she said, getting to her feet. "So how long have you been trying to figure this out on your own?" she asked with a grin.

"How do you know I'm even capable of doing this?" he said, ignoring her question entirely.

"Because you're here. Though how it is that you're here, I honestly don't know."

"How am I dreaming?" he said slowly, clearly not understanding.

"Everyone dreams, but only mages enter the fade when we sleep because we're inherently connected to it. Materia, from what I gather at least, create an artificial connection to the fade so that anyone can wield it. _You_ don't need materia because you're already connected. For all intents and purposes, you are the materia. Sort of."

"I see." he said, looking thoughtful. It hadn't taken her long to realise that people weren't exaggerating when they said he was a materia expert. And unlike her very instinctual magical knowledge, he was very well versed in the theory and was liable to give lectures if given half a chance.

"That still leaves the magic raw and unformed however." he said.

"That part is instinctive. It has to be felt; I don't know that words can quite encapsulate it."

"Then show me." he said plainly.

"Alright." she said, stretching her fingers as she thought of how to go about it. Aerith had already been throwing magic about, albeit subconsciously, when she met her so they had skipped this step. She began to unbuckling her gauntlet and pulling off her gloves, gesturing for him to do the same. She would show him how to form his raw mana just as her father had shown her.

"What element shall we start with?"

"Fire, obviously." he said, removing his gloves and tucking them into a pocket.

"Fire it is then. Because we're already in the fade it'll be far easier here than it would when you're awake. Though be warned, I don't have much control with fire here so I hope you pick this up quickly."

"And if I don't pick it up quickly?" he asked with a quirk of his brow.

"Then you'll probably end up on fire."

She approached and stood in front of him. She gestured for him to give her his hand. He complied, looking at her intently. She held his right hand in her own, both of their palms facing up. She looked into his eyes as her mana starting prodding at him, wondering what he would be capable of. This was something you could only do in the fade; with no physical barriers to impede it your mana could flitter about however you wanted.

"This isn't going to work if you keep your mana so tightly leashed." she said. Her energy poked at his, feeling it banked up but also locked down. That just wouldn't do.

She let her mana flow up over both of their hands, making it condense in his palm. She heard his sharp intake of breath at the feeling. Sensing someone else's mana usually meant you were under attack. It spoke volumes that he trusted her enough to let her do this.

With conscious effort she slowed down the process as she twisted the strands of energy into a flame. A small flickering ball of fire burst into life in their palms, the red light dancing across their faces. Still looking him in the eye she could feel his mana beginning to reach out and poke at the fire experimentally, his expression openly fascinated. It brought a smile to her face.

She let her own energy entwine with his as she built the up the little flare. The fire grew hotter and more intense as his own natural affinity for the element had him instinctively feeding the flames. He really did have a gift for this; she could feel the fire responding eagerly to his energy, growing into a consuming power that would leave nothing unscathed. If they weren't careful it would escape all control. The once tiny spark was now a furious little inferno pulsating with energy and craving more, always more, trying to draw them in and set the world alight. He wore an exhilarated smile that matched the gleam in his eyes. The air was taught with energy, she couldn't tell where hers ended and his started. The maelstrom of building mana had her hair standing on end and the wild and dangerous side of her wanting to conjure up lightning bolts. With a small push she sent the fireball rocketing up to explode in the canopy overhead.

Both staggered back in shock at the massive release of energy. Sparks and leaves rained down around them. The tension broken; her thoughts were left thoroughly unhinged. They were still staring at each other.

"And that is how you start a wildfire."

* * *

Hawke strolled through the slums on her way to the church. Aerith walked next to her, smiling brightly through the morning gloom. The novelty of carrying her own staff clearly hadn't worn off yet as she was swinging it around gleefully. Hawke wondered how many times the girl would have to trip herself up with it before she resorted to carrying it on her back. She was betting twice more at this rate.

They picked their way along the now very familiar route and Hawke found her mind recalling her last foray into the Fade. Her impromptu magic lesson with Genesis hadn't progressed much further than setting the trees on fire. After that she had been rather unfocused. She told herself it was the heat from the burning apple trees that had her flushed. Genesis had been equally distracted, occasionally glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. His eyes were a very striking blue; she wondered that she didn't notice it beforehand.

Afterwards, at his insistence she'd tried to teach him a simply healing spell but he had been hopeless at it. It seemed that materia made casting easier across the board, if less powerful in general. Casting from scratch required a lot more mana per spell as well as greater understanding of the techniques needed to shape each specific attack. He took the failure with a determined look that said this was by no means over.

Aerith on the other hand was flourishing. The addition of a staff made her healing practically unparalleled. While she still lacked stamina she had finally figured out how to build a simple shield spell without spending half the afternoon in concentration. It was a highly celebrated breakthrough. As a fade shaper, Aerith was slowly discovering her ability to enter the fade at will. Not a particularly useful skill under the circumstances, but something Hawke believed she ought to have control over nonetheless.

Hawke found herself feeling unusually scholarly. She wasn't used to people considering her some kind of magical expert. While she had always been able to dish out untold destruction and years of practise made her a mage to be reckoned with, she hardly considered herself an authority on the subject. Anders had always been the scholar, and Merrill was the one you went to for knowledge on forms of magic not taught in the circle. Hawke brought explosions, not understanding. It was almost surreal, having Aerith and Genesis, two clearly very powerful mages, coming to her for advice.

The church came into view; they could see Reno lounging lazily outside while having a smoke. Any pretence of professionalism on his part had long since been dropped.

They were climbing the stairs when a loud and obnoxious ringing noise blared out.

It took Hawke a good few seconds to realise it was coming from her. Her newest gadget was screaming out like the world was ending. Scrambling through her pockets she found the phone and flipped it open with a scornful glare at the offending device.

"What?" She said into it, recalling belatedly that there was probably some sort of protocol for answering a phone.

"Hawke? This is Genesis, I need your help." he sounded more anxious then she had ever heard him.

"What's going on? Where are you?" she said, hand instinctively reaching for her staff. That he so readily admitted to needing help meant it wasn't something trivial.

"I'm in Rocket town, Angeal's been wounded and I can't heal him." His voice took on the stern emotionless tone of a commander, falling back on military efficiency. "He's going to bleed out at this rate."

"Where do I go? What do you need me to do?" She had never heard of Rocket town, if it was close then maybe she could-

"It's on the next continent; I need you to heal him. There's very little time."

"How am I supposed to get to the next continent? Dammit, I don't think I can just up and leave, Genesis."

He swore, anxiety bleeding back into his voice.

"Are you leaving Hawke?" Aerith asked looking quite concerned.

"Wouldn't recommend that Babe." Reno said, the both of them clearly eavesdropping on at least her half of the conversation.

"Genesis, I can't leave Aerith on her own," she said, watching Reno nod in agreement, "According to Reno at least, it's not safe for her here."

"What does Reno have to do with it?" he asked, bafflement intruding on his frustration.

"We're under official surveillance." Hawke said, rubbing her forehead. She wanted to help Genesis' friend. Someone was dying and she could help him, but if she left and Aerith disappeared into Shinra's labs she would never forgive herself. There was a pause on the other side of the call.

"Give him the phone." Genesis said in a steely tone. It wasn't a question.

"Reno, it's for you." she said, handing it over. She had no idea what exactly he intended or what sort of office politics were coming into play, but the SOLDIER clearly wasn't just going to sit and watch his friend die. She could sympathise.

"Heya Rhapsodos, so you and Hawke-" started Reno in his casual drawl before being interrupted.

"…Hey I don't take orders from you, slick." he said, clearly not impressed with whatever Genesis was saying. "…try it, SOLDIER, see what happens-" he paused, his expression going from irritated to considering, "…how much?"

"…I'll do it for double. …Wow, you really are desperate, what's going on? …Pfft whatever. Yeah I can take the both of them. And you'd better talk to Tseng because I aint losing my job for you. …Fine, but you damn well owe me." He snapped the phone shut and threw it back to Hawke.

Both women looked at him, Hawke expectant and Aerith baffled.

"Who wants to ride in a helicopter and piss Shinra right the hell off?" Reno asked with a grin that didn't fit the situation.

"What's going on Hawke?" Aerith asked, both very concerned and completely lost.

"How do you think your mother will feel about us visiting Rocket town Aerith?"

* * *

_A few hours earlier…_

"I can't believe they sent us all the way out here for such pointless busywork." Genesis said in a long suffering tone. He and Angeal were in Rocket town for what he was convinced was just petty posturing on Shinra's part. A cursory look into the towns official projects and then photo opportunities, it was the PR department's fault no doubt. Then the locals had made mention of the dragons sighted in the foothills.

"You know what the higher ups are like." said Angeal, taking his friends whining in stride. "They'll never waste an opportunity to show us off. You're just lucky there's something for us to fight." The two of them were hunting the creatures down before they could become a problem to the little industrial town.

Currently half way up the mountain where the nesting spot was said to be, Genesis glanced back at his childhood friend.

"Are you sure you're feeling up to this? Dragons can be very dangerous, especially if they should be mutated."

Angeal looked at him like he'd grown a second head.

"Of course I'm feeling up to it. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You have spent a lot of time getting checked up by Hollander lately." he said in a carefully neutral tone. The degradation had probably only just kicked in, but neither had spoken of it. It hung over them awkwardly, defying either of them to bring it up.

"It's fine." Angeal said, in a voice that declared the subject dropped.

Deciding to take his word for it, Genesis changed the subject. Angeal was just as much an experienced First Class as himself, there was no reason to make it more of an issue then it had to be.

"How many dragons do you think will be at the nest?"

"A small pack, going by the reports. I hope you brought your ice materia."

"It's called a murder of dragons, Angeal." he said with a smile. Actually, wasn't this exactly what 'doctor' Hawke had been instructing him not to do? But then she had been joking so it was irrelevant. Not to mention, she didn't know just how much a SOLDIER First Class was capable of, let alone two of them. There was nothing to worry about.

They reached the nest. There were three dragons, two smaller females and a massive bull dragon.

Hawke hadn't been kidding when she said casting was easier in the fade. He might have nearly burned down an orchard there but here he could accomplish little more than a low level fire spell, which would be useless against dragons anyway. Compared to his mastered materia it didn't even register.

Not inclined to take visitors, the dragons attacked as soon as they noticed the two SOLDIERs. The giant lizards were not easy kills. It didn't take long for Angeal to draw his buster sword.

The smaller female dragon fell to one of Angeal's limit breaks. The second was a quick and lithe green dragon that had them dancing out of that way of its vicious claws, but Genesis ultimately cut it down. Both were focusing on Ice spells to combat the fire breathers, it wasn't his favourite way to fight but he was no less capable for it.

He looked up to see the bull swinging its powerful tail at them. They both dodged and got in position to corner it. At least, Genesis got in position, expecting Angeal to do the same. It was a formation they had used against many dragons over the years; he was confused when saw Angeal hanging back.

The bull shouldn't be a problem against the two of them, but now he could see Angeal was flagging. Had the degradation sapped so much of his strength already? This was too soon; it shouldn't have progressed so far so quickly!

Angeal leapt back, narrowly avoiding a torrent of flames. Shaking his head and muttering under his breath; he pulled out a glowing red materia.

"That might not be wise, Angeal." Genesis called out after dodging the dragon's claw. He jumped up and slashed at the nearest wing. Now that he knew there was no guarantee with Summons he was loath to use them. This fight was hardly lost, just a more of a trial then it should have been.

"I can't believe you lost this one, Genesis." Angeal called, apparently not having heard him. "You're lucky it was me that found it." The words registered and Genesis's head snapped around to face his friend. A dreadful suspicion filling him, but surely fate wasn't that cruel.

"Angeal-"

"Shiva!" Angeal called out. Genesis swore.

A swipe at the dragon's belly had it rearing up and taking to the skies. In the brief pause before it flew around again to rain fire upon them, familiar blue runes glowed around the upheld materia followed by a flash of light.

Shiva stood proudly in the late afternoon sun. Her blue skin glistened as did the silver spear she held. She was staring straight at Genesis, a vicious grin on her face.

"Hello little soldier."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review, I'm trying to improve my writing and all comments and critiques are appreciated :)_

_Next time: Murphy's Law_


	15. Desperation

_A/N: A shorter chapter this time, but the next part will be up fairly quickly. Also, thanks for all feedback :)_

_Disclaimer: Not mine. _

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Hawke looked out the window of the helicopter.

Indistinct scenery sped past far below, the shrouded moon doing very little to illuminate the night. Despite the circumstances Hawke had been fascinated by the flying contraption and just as giddy as Aerith at the prospect of riding in it, though she had done a better job of hiding it.

To Aerith she had told what little she knew of the situation: someone was hurt and Hawke was needed to heal them. Somehow the girl had realised the injured party was Angeal, the mentor who Zack was always going on about. She immediately offered her help. Hawke didn't know if the Cetra's magic would work or not but she immediately accepted the offer anyway.

After Genesis' call they had moved quickly to get to Rocket town as soon as possible. She didn't know what strings Genesis had pulled to get Reno to be so obliging but the cocky Turk clearly thought he was getting the better end of the deal. From the sounds of it he was also just glad to be flying instead of watching a boring church half the day.

Elmyra, however, had been less pleased. As much as she had come to trust Hawke, sending her teenage daughter off to the other side of the planet at a moment's notice for reasons that couldn't be fully explained was not a scheme that won her approval. Hawke had eventually convinced her it was for the best. She was going to Rocket town and the Turks said it wasn't safe for Aerith to remain on her own; either Aerith came as well or risked Shinra taking her. Hawke had the distinct feeling Elmyra would be giving her a piece of her mind when they returned.

Reno said they would be arriving soon.

Aerith was looking anxious and wringing her hands, apparently the planet was uneasy. Hawke certainly was. Genesis was asking her to save the life of his best friend. Under any other circumstances she would have been irritated at being summoned so brusquely, but as it was she was just surprised he'd held it together so well. The day a stray poisoned arrow had hit Varric in the shoulder stood out in her memories. She'd damn near trampled people in her rush to get him to Ander's clinic.

She had promised Genesis her help, and she would do whatever she could to provide it. Hopefully it would be enough. Her magic might be the only force on this planet that could help, but she was still no healer. Admittedly her restorative skills had improved over the last few months, but could she bring someone back from the brink of death? She hoped it wasn't too late already. It had taken half the day just to reach them.

At her side she had a bag full of ether potions. Not quite as effective for restoring mana as lyrium but they got the job done. She had been hoarding them since she arrived and so far had barely used any of the ever growing stash. She suspected the bag was about to become a good deal lighter.

The shapes of buildings could be seen below them now. Reno landed the helicopter with minimal fuss right at the town's entrance (that he could pilot it at all had Hawke re-evaluating her opinion of him).

"Alright," he said into the microphone attached to the head sets they were all wearing "You're looking for the inn, third building on the right."

"Thanks Reno." she said, unbuckling her seat belt and trying to figure out how the door worked.

They got out and Reno flew away after giving them a warning about remembering to lay low. She doubted they'd have time to do anything else.

They found the inn, the only building with its lights still on.

"Upstairs, first on the left." said an exhausted looking desk clerk the moment they entered. "He's waiting for you."

They found the room and were greeted by a pacing Genesis.

"Hawke, finally." he said, running a hand through his hair and sounding as relieved as he did agitated. The room smelt like blood.

"Where is he, how bad is it?" she said, getting straight to business. Aerith stood meekly behind her.

"Through here. I've bandaged his wounds but it hasn't stopped the bleeding." he said, leading them into the room.

The man lying unconscious on the bed was barely recognizable. She may have only met Angeal briefly that day in the VR room but it was enough to see he was a fit and healthy warrior in his late twenties. The man lying on the bed looked at least 20 years older. Along with a host of wounds that were bleeding through their bandages, he was pale with discoloured veins bulging along his skin. His once black hair was shot with grey. Hawke hoped the Maker was listening because this was utterly beyond her meagre skill. Her gut told her it was beyond anyone's skill. She'd do what she could anyway.

"What happened?" she asked, checking the three large gashes running across his chest.

"Dragons." he said simply, "…and Shiva." he finished with a bitter voice. Hawke stilled at that, before continuing refocusing. She could worry about Xebenkeck later. Going by the size of the wounds, the dragons must have been massive. It was a miracle the man was still breathing.

"Aerith, I'm going to need your help healing this." she said, adjusting the lamps standing by the bed.

"You know materia doesn't do anything." Genesis said, looking between her and Aerith. "He doesn't have time for us to waste Hawke."

"Trust me on this. Aerith?" She would apologise to the girl for dragging her into this later. Right now there was work to be done.

The teenager rolled up her sleeves and stood at the bed across from Hawke, holding her staff nervously.

"I'm here." She had a determined look on her face, but she was clearly feeling out of her depth. "This is more than anything I've done before Hawke."

"You're a healer Aerith." she said taking the girl's hand and held it over a gruesome cut on his arm, "Just focus on stopping the bleeding alright? One wound at a time. Let me take care of the rest."

Aerith nodded and closed her eyes. The familiar green light of healing started to glow over his arm. Hawke prayed that it would work; Aerith was a very gifted healer, without her help Angeal didn't stand a chance.

Aerith tilted her head in confusion. The cut shrunk and the bleeding slowed, but the wound didn't close. Normally Aerith would have been able to heal a cut twice the size with barely any effort. Still, it was better than nothing and Hawke would make the absolute most of it. Genesis was looking at the girl intently, before shaking his head and focusing on his unconscious friend again.

"Why is it so hard? That should have fixed it." Aerith said, looking to Hawke for answers.

"Do what you have to Aerith; though stay focused on the superficial wounds for now." Hawke said, side stepping the question.

Hawke focused on the gashes across his torso. Calling on all the techniques Anders had taught her while they worked together in his clinic, she starting casting healing spells.

As her magic sank into him she wanted to stagger back, the corruption was so much stronger in him then it had been in Genesis. It wasn't content to watch her patch him up either, it retaliated viciously, bombarding her mind with echoes of pain and agony. She was glad Aerith was working on the man's extremities; she wouldn't be as affected by it. Every inch of progress was a desperate struggle and a hard won fight. She was burning through her mana rapidly.

The next few hours were spent in tense silence. The two women worked on with single minded determination. They slowly made progress. The bag of ethers steadily emptied.

Angeal would occasionally groan, or reach out blindly but never fully regained consciousness.

Eventually Aerith hit her breaking point.

She stumbled back with tears in her eyes, leaning heavily on her staff.

"It's breaking him, Hawke" she said in sorrow, perspiration running down her face. "I don't know how to stop it, it's… it won't let go." she shook her head, looking to Hawke for guidance.

"I know Aerith." she said quietly. "Here, sit down. I'll take it from here."

The girl had clearly hit mental exhaustion and sat down heavily. She was passed out on the couch not moments later.

Aerith might be an impressive healer but she didn't yet know how to face down things so sinister; that took a strength born of experience that Hawke specialized in. This wasn't so much healing as it was weathering an assault. Whatever was causing this corruption was alive and vicious and not about to relinquish its hold. Hawke couldn't kill it, or even truly dislodge it, but with enough desperate casting she could beat it into weakening its grip. Anything to buy him more time.

"Genesis." she started, while taking a breath to recoup some of her mana.

"The corruption, do you know what it is?" she asked, wiping sweat from her brow. "What did they inject you with? It's not mako, this is alive and it's crushing him in its grip. It's so much stronger now than it felt in you."

He looked pensive, though he didn't look up from where he was changing Angeal's bandages.

"Jenova cells, I believe. DNA from a creature excavate from…" he paused, his brow drawn down in confusion. "What do you mean it's alive?"

"It's alive. It isn't just a condition or sped up aging, this thing is aware and responsive. That's why this is so exhausting, it doesn't want to let go of him." It truly did rival the blight in that. What was this jenova?

"I see." he said quietly. He continued his work.

When the store of ethers finally ran dry, Hawke's mana reserves eventually drained to the dregs and she was forced to take a break. She left to wash some of the blood off her hands and try to wake herself up a little.

* * *

Genesis sat with his head in his hands in the silent, blood splattered room.

Angeal groaned.

"Genesis?" he said weakly, his eyes barely open.

"Angeal!" Genesis was at his friend's side immediately, his hand scrunching in the blood drenched blankets. The black haired soldier's eyes were glazed and sunken.

"I'm dying aren't I?" he sounded resigned.

"Not yet." Genesis said sternly.

"Liar." he said with a weak smile. "Killed by my own Summon. Sounds like something Zack would do."

"You can't die yet Angeal." Genesis said, trying to keep the anguish out of his voice. "You promised the puppy you'd be there for his promotion. Dying now would be dishonourable."

"I suppose it is." said Angeal. He sighed. "Genesis, you've always been my brother. If this it-"

"No. Don't you dare say goodbye, Angeal." he interrupted, in a voice that was much begging as it was commanding. "You are not dying tonight, do you hear me SOLDIER?"

Angeal fell back into oblivion before he could respond.

* * *

The night drew to a close and the sun started peaking in through the gap in the curtains.

Hawke kept casting, pouring as much healing as she could into him. She'd never cast the same basic healing spell so many times before. Genesis alternated between handing her ethers whenever needed, and sitting with his head in his hands, quietly mumbling prayers. His expression had changed from deep anguish to completely closed off. Despite how clearly exhausted he was he wouldn't relinquish his vigil.

"That's all I can do." Hawke said finally, collapsing on the couch. She had no idea what time it was, she barely even knew where they were. Such dedicated focus on casting had left her utterly drained. Black splotches were intruding on the edges of her vision.

"He's stabilized at least." she said. He wasn't dead, but chances were he wouldn't be waking up again either. It sounded like a defeat to her ears. "I can't force the corruption back any more than that."

Genesis sat on the other side of the couch, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. He hadn't said anything in hours. His eyes still focused on Angeal.

"How long does he have?" he asked in an empty tone.

"Weeks probably." she said bleakly. "A couple of months if he's lucky."

Silence reigned in the cold room. The birds chirping outside and the cheery morning light seemed almost offensive, an over-bright mockery of the despair filled moment.

"I don't how to fix him Hawke." he said, sounding so broken. "My brother is dying and I don't know how to fix it."

Hawke looked down at drying blood now staining the carpet. She wished she had any comfort to give.

* * *

_A/N: I find it a wasted opportunity that the game doesn't show us Genesis' reaction to Angeal's death. You can't lose your oldest friend and not be bothered by it. That said, I promise this isn't going to descend into a mire of self pity. _

_Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, I'm trying to improve my writing and all comments and critiques are appreciated :)_

_Next Time: the Gloves Come off... _


	16. Manifestation

_A/N: Thanks for all the feedback guys! Sorry this chapter is a little shorter, it was being most uncooperative. _

_Disclaimer: Not mine. _

* * *

**Chapter 16 **

Genesis slept restlessly. They hadn't left the hotel room in Rocket town; the three exhausted mages were sprawled out on the couches around a comatose Angeal.

Not quite in the fade, his mind replayed images of Angeal being struck down by the dragon, the mocking laughter of Shiva as she threw her icy spears. He felt the phantom of searing pain from a shoulder wound long healed. He tossed and turned in anguish, trying to escape his own mind.

His eyes snapped open. He was alone in the room, late afternoon sun streamed in through the curtains but he barely noticed. All he knew was pain, his back screaming out in agony. Had he been stabbed? He staggered to his feet. It felt like there was something tearing through the muscles of his left shoulder, threatening to break out and leave him in tatters. What was happening? He could barely stay standing, the pain almost driving him to his knees.

The muscles on his back stretched and constricted in ways that were utterly foreign. There was a harsh ripping sound and the agony exploded. He felt like he was being ripped in two. His vision blacked out for a moment and all his mind could supply was a feeling of _wrongness_. He collapsed in pain, a strange weight dragging him down. What was wrong with him? There were black feathers everywhere.

He looked over his shoulder and froze in uncomprehending shock. Reaching up over him was a giant black wing.

His thoughts stilled. He felt trapped and numb, unable to make sense of the feathered limb. He ran a hand along the appendage and shuddered when he felt it, the muscles in his back constricting and making the wing jerk.

_I have a wing._

Deep seated horror gripped him.

People didn't have wings.

What did that make him?

Was he a monster now?

Someone said his name, it didn't register.

He could hear the broken sounds of desperate breathing, unaware it was coming from him. His eyes were still rooted to the wing where it hung above him, adorned with blood and feathers.

His blood.

His feathers.

Tears might have been streaming down his face, he didn't know.

Someone was holding him. Hawke, his mind absently noticed. Why wasn't she running away? He was a monster, couldn't she see that? He didn't know when his own arms had wrapped around her, clutching onto her like a lifeline.

She was saying something his mind wasn't hearing. Her arms remaining firmly wrapped around him. He found his head resting on her shoulder; two simple but devastating sentences echoing again and again in his head.

_I have a wing._

_I am a Monster._

He held her all the closer. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. He didn't notice the wing reflexively wrapping around them both.

* * *

Hawke entered the town's little café. She was buying food because she needed something to do, anything to distract herself from what had just happened.

She had returned from taking a relaxing stroll about the town only to find Genesis hyperventilating, a massive wing sprouting from his back. Concern for her friend overrode everything else and she immediately provided what comfort she could. She had held him for at least thirty minutes before he seemed to take notice and regain any semblance of control. Now, slightly distanced from the revelation, her mind was in turmoil.

Amidst his shocked mumbling she had heard him call himself a monster. She would have gone with abomination.

She couldn't help the doubts flooding her mind; the wing was an extension of whatever entity Shinra had injected into him. It wasn't natural, it was… something else. His body was being changed, would his mind follow? She wanted to believe he was stronger than that; he had lived his whole life with this entity, why would he cave now? It wasn't his fault he had a wing (and who knew what else?) he could hardly be held accountable for it. She wanted to say that this changed nothing. He was her friend regardless of how many limbs he had; he was still the same person he had been yesterday.

The other half of her mind wasn't so accepting. Her past was held up as evidence, a cautionary tale against being blinded to the true danger.

Anders had been her friend too.

She had always known Anders had a… passenger, though it looked to be a mostly benign one. She supported him however she could, she tried to anchor him to this world and not let the brooding Other within him define how she saw him. She had seen him as a friend and never a threat. Until the day he murdered everyone in the chantry and tore Kirkwall apart at the seams.

Was Genesis set on the same path? There was a malicious and cunning _something_ deep inside of him, and apparently it wasn't content with just the degradation. Would it latch onto his mind? She had seen it before, manipulative spirits loved to use your own motivations used against you and twist you into their own image. Genesis had no lack of motivation. She knew he hated Shinra but given what they had done to him it was hardly unreasonable. Thinking of that black wing, violently jutting out of a human back, she realised she had vastly underestimated Shinra's depravity. Going by Genesis' shock, he had too.

As far as she was concerned the main question was whether or not Genesis was in fact in charge of himself, and if so, would it last? Was he possessed?

What should she do? What could she do?

She sifted through what she knew and what that might mean, looking for any kind of conclusion. Her eyes followed the trails of steam from the overpriced coffee in front of her. For all her contemplations she arrived at the same flawed decision she had with Anders.

Genesis was her friend. She would help however she could. To leave him feeling isolated or abandoned would not improve matters. And if he really was slipping, his mind slowly becoming someone else's playground, then she would just have to deal with it at a later date. Her rebellious mind asked if that had helped the people Anders killed, but she ignored it. Anders had volunteered to merge with Justice, it was his decision and the blame lay with him. Genesis had no say in what had happened to him. For all her caution and past failures, Hawke could not bring herself to judge the man for things he _might_ do.

Crushing her doubts, she rose and started making her way back to the inn. Last she had heard Aerith was exploring the town and enjoying the sun. It was time to start considering the next step. Angeal's condition had remained stable; she doubted he would be waking from his coma any time soon. They would have to return to Midgar.

She entered the inn and climbed the stairs. Outside the room she could hear the muffled sounds of an argument. Opening the door she was met with the baffling sight of Genesis and Aerith pruning the newly discovered wing.

"Stop yanking on the feathers, it's delicate!" Genesis said petulantly.

"I'm not yanking them; I'm trying to wash the dried blood off! Oh- stop twitching, you're making it worse." Aerith said, wiping a damp cloth across the feathers.

Hawke didn't know what she had been expecting but that wasn't it. Still, they were handling the situation rather well, previous melt downs aside.

"Hawke. Where did you run off to?" Genesis asked, looking cautious. Embarrassed perhaps?

"I went looking for food. I bring criminally overpriced sustenance." she said, holding up the small bags of food. She caught the quick look of relief of Genesis' face before it was covered by his usual haughty expression.

"I'll take those." said Aerith, taking the food and fleeing to the kitchen. Apparently she was slightly more unnerved than she wanted them to think.

With just Hawke and Genesis in the room a decidedly awkward silence descended. Hawke would have gladly ignored it but Genesis spoke.

"What happened earlier… thank you." he said quietly, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"Don't mention it."

"I thought perhaps I'd scarred you off." he said in a light tone that failed to hide the sentiment beneath it.

"You'll have to try a lot harder than that." she said with a grin. "Though I'd prefer if you didn't."

"I'll try not to sprout any more extraneous limbs then." He said dryly.

"The cleaners are going to have a fit as it is." The room was just littered in feathers and blood splatters. She softly cleared her throat. "How are you doing?" she asked cautiously.

"Admirably, given the circumstances." he said with a sigh, eyeing the feathery elephant in the room. "Hollander did say there might be mutations eventually. I assumed he meant tumours."

"Hollander?"

"The scientist who oversaw my… creation. One might say that this is his handiwork." he ran his hand through the feathers, narrowing his eyes at it. His dark tone almost had her pitying the scientist.

Genesis seemed to snap out of his reverie.

"I called for medical-evac while you were gone." he said, looking at Angeal's still form.

"Returning to Midgar then?"

"Yes. They won't arrive for another day at least, but this cursed mission is finally over."

The rest of the time they had in Rocket town was spent in quiet isolation. Genesis somehow figured out how to retract his wing. With a good deal of concentration it had bent at the joint and then just faded away. The consensus was not to think about it too much. All questions from management about where the wealth of long black feathers came from were duly ignored.

As predicted Shinra's medical teams arrived the next day. While the doctors and medics fretted over Angeal, Hawke and Aerith were bundled into a smaller far less conspicuous helicopter piloted by a nameless Turk. They were back in Midgar in less than a day.

* * *

"There is nothing the doctors can do." Gensis said. "Angeal is dying."

He and Sephiroth stood in the General's office. Sephiroth stood next to the floor to ceiling window and Genesis leant against the back of one of the couches, arms crossed. As soon as they had arrived back in Midgar Angeal had disappeared into the medical ward and Genesis was faced with a General determined to have answers. They had both been kicked out of the infirmary and told to wait for news elsewhere. Genesis was supposed to be reporting back from his mission, though it had turned into more of an interrogation. He had expected no less, but that made it no easier.

After answering the cursory questions about the actual mission itself, the question of what happened to Angeal was immediately brought up. Genesis hadn't wanted to discuss this with Sephiroth, with anyone really, but with Angeal in a coma it was unavoidable.

Sephiroth looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"How do you know they won't be able to help him?"

"I've seen injuries like that before." Genesis said in a carefully neutral voice.

"The wound on your shoulder." The General said, watching Genesis intently. "But you found a solution."

"That was-"

"Hawke." Sephiroth said as though it were obvious.

"How did you know that?" he asked, slightly taken aback. They had never spoken of it.

"I am not a fool Genesis. I don't care who she is, if her magic can somehow heal Angeal-"

"It can't. She's already tried. This is the best she could do." he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. She had filled him with hope, however unintentionally, and then failed to deliver. It wasn't Hawke's fault she wasn't a healer, but a small part of Genesis blamed her anyway.

"What is wrong with him Genesis?" Sephiroth asked. He sounded almost lost, a soldier facing a problem that couldn't be outmanoeuvred.

"I told you, we were attacked." Genesis hedged.

"That doesn't explain why Angeal looks about 60." irritation crept into Sephiroth's voice.

A distance built of secrets, resentment, and unanswered questions spanned between the two men, making the ensuing silence tense and oppressive. They couldn't continue like this, not with Angeal's condition as it was. This wasn't the time for secrets and rivalries.

"He's degrading." Genesis admitted quietly. He doubted the General knew exactly how much it cost him to admit that, to own his weakness and the inescapable flaws in their genes. Sephiroth looked confused. Of course he would, Genesis thought bitterly, the perfect General with the perfect genetics, what would he know of weakness?

"Degrading? Why?" Sephiroth asked.

"Do you know why we're so much more capable than the average SOLDIER, Sephiroth? Do you know why we are the best?"

Sephiroth looked about the room, as though searching for eavesdroppers. The office was unlikely to be bugged but with Shinra one could never truly be sure.

"This isn't a conversation we should have here." Sephiroth said.

"You wanted answers didn't you?" Genesis asked harshly, starting to pace.

"Project G. Overseen by Hollander, Jenova cells and mako were injected into unborn children. The result was Angeal and myself. The enhancements made us stronger, faster, better." he took a breath, as though stalling the explanation might delay the reality of it. "Now those enhancements are tearing us apart." It was ironic really; their highly vaunted strength was also their destruction.

Sephiroth looked shocked, slowly bleeding into confusion. He looked out the window, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

"My mother's cells?" he asked. Genesis remembered the man's unusual background, no parents and a childhood he didn't remember, just a single name attached to a reported mother. Knowing what he did now, he suspected not having those memories was a blessing.

"You've never actually met your mother have you? You've only been told her name." he said, looking at Sephiroth from the corner of his eye. How the General would react to this news was anybody's guess. "Jenova was excavated from a two thousand year old rock layer. She's a monster."

"What? But… then what am I?" he asked slowly, his expression the closest to horrified Genesis had ever seen.

"You were the result of Project S. I don't know what they did to you; Hojo keeps his cards close to the chest. But it worked, whatever it was. You will not degrade." the bitterness in his voice was clear but Sephiroth didn't notice. He was looking out the window and clearly not seeing any of it.

"I always knew that I was not like the rest. But this… this is not what I meant." he said distantly, as though speaking to himself. "Am I a monster?" he asked, looking at his hands.

"My friend, the fates are cruel, there are no dreams, no honour remains. We are all monsters." Sephiroth turned to him, shaking off his indecision and looking ready to contest the point.

In a flurry of black feathers Genesis let his wing unfurl. He found no satisfaction in Sephiroth's look of shock and abject horror.

"The arrow has left the bow of the goddess."

* * *

_A/N: Meltdowns for everybody! As always, thanks for reading! Reviews aren't required but are greatly appreciated :)_

_Next Time: Magical Shenanigans. _


	17. Laugh or Cry

_A/N: Slightly longer chapter this time. Thanks for all the feedback guys :)_

_Disclaimer: Not mine_

* * *

**Chapter 17 **

Hawke flicked the last of the monster ichor off her daggers. The strange creature had been far too easy a kill for her taste.

Everyone around her was so depressed these days. She couldn't blame them but it had her missing Varric even more than usual. Her loyal storytelling dwarf faced every situation with a smirk, a joke, and a crossbow bolt. Hawke still occasionally turned to the side expecting Varric to be there, waiting to share in the madness. Thinking about how much she missed him just made her all the more depressed which in turn made her miss him all over again.

She knew she was just feeling sorry for herself and tried to amuse herself with monster hunting, lest she reach some kind of self-pity singularity. The slums were not proving to be particularly amusing.

She hadn't seen Genesis in the Fade since returning from Rocket town. He presumably had a lot on his plate and didn't have much time for fretting about in the dream world. It wasn't until Zack arrived at the church that morning wearing the most miserable expression she had ever seen that she got an update on Angeal's condition. Sure she didn't actually know the man, but she was involved now and he had her concern if only by association. He was still in a coma and the doctors were all baffled.

Zack was devastated by his mentor's condition, especially since he was still in the dark about what caused it. Hawke had left to give him and Aerith a little privacy.

Aerith wasn't handling the situation any better. That had Hawke feeling incredibly guilty. It hadn't been intentional but Aerith had still found herself with the weight of someone's life on her shoulders. The girl wasn't a warrior or even a field medic; she didn't know how to handle that pressure. Angeal was still dying, and Aerith was weathering the guilt for that, even more so with Zack crying over her shoulder about it.

Elmyra had noticed her daughter's distress and given Hawke a lecture the likes of which she hadn't seen in years. Hell's fury might not rival a woman scorned but neither held a candle to a protective parent. Hawke couldn't argue with Elmyra, she sincerely regretting putting Aerith in that situation. It was clearly more than the teenager could handle.

She brooded her way back to the church. Aerith wanted to know more healing techniques but she had no more to teach. Hawke sighed in frustration, why did life always have to pile all the problems on at once? Couldn't they form an orderly queue and let her deal with them one at a time? Of course not, that would be far too reasonable.

Zack was leaving the church just as she arrived, a smile that was more determined than happy on his face. He nodded at the daily Turk, a very professional bald one this time.

Inside the church she found a pensive looking Aerith. She was sitting at the edge of the flower bed, staring at the blossoms as though they might be hiding some all-important revelation.

"Hi Hawke." she said, biting her lip. She opened her mouth to continue and then appeared to change her mind. Hawke sat next to her and waited, knowing she would say whatever she needed to when she was ready.

"I was wondering about… Fade Shaping." Aerith said as though the topic was somehow sacred.

"Oh? What about it?" Hawke asked, forgoing the reverent tone. They'd discussed it many times; it was just another type of magic as far as she was concerned, even if it was unique to Aerith.

"You said it makes my powers stronger right? Entering the Fade and… well, shaping things there instead of doing it here?"

Aerith had slowly perfected the art of entering the Fade at will, but they hadn't practised much there, largely because there was no reason to. The empty Fade of Gaia didn't necessitate much practise.

"That's right. Or at least, that's how I understand it. The only other Fade Shaper I know knew even less about his powers than I did." she said.

"But theoretically, my healing would be stronger through the fade?" Aerith was clearly building up to something.

"Theoretically, but it's not like you can get physically hurt in the fade in the first place."

"But maybe I could use that to heal someone not in the fade?"

"What exactly do you have in mind?" Hawke asked cautiously, fairly certain she knew what Aerith was getting at.

"I want to try healing Angeal again." she said with a decisive nod.

Hawke sighed. "What happened was not your fault, Aerith." she said firmly, "You are not responsible for-"

"I know." the girl said quietly. "But if I can help him, then shouldn't I at least try?"

"You have tried. We both did." she said, hoping to get through to the girl. Sometimes trying just wasn't enough as Hawke well knew, but you needed to keep living regardless.

"I can do more." Aerith said, her voice taking on the stubborn tone it did when she was determined to get her way.

"Aerith, toying with people in the Fade is very dangerous. What you're talking about is the sort of thing healers spend decades studying before even attempting." Hawke wasn't about to let the girl's emotions make a potentially terrible decision.

"I know it's dangerous, but the demons are-"

"This isn't about demons. When something goes wrong in the Fade the consequences can be beyond disastrous. There's as much chance of healing him as there is of accidentally destroying his mind."

"What?" Aerith said, not expecting such a hiccup in her plan.

"A person's connection to the fade is a delicate but vital part of their mind, mess with it and you can do some serious damage Aerith. You have the potential to be very powerful, but do you know how to wield that power?" Hawke asked, looking Aerith intently in the eye.

"I'll be careful." she said quietly.

"Do you remember how vicious the corruption was? It's not going to let go of him easily." she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm not even sure if it's possible. Some things just can't be cured."

"I can do it Hawke." Aerith said, jutting her chin out in determination. "I've thought it through, and I know what I'm doing."

Hawke considered the girl. She wasn't quite the delicate waif she had been when they first met. She was more confident in her own power now, in herself as a Cetra. Combined with the growth spurt she'd gone through and the self-assured way she had taken to standing with her staff, she did indeed look like a competent mage. But it was Hawke's shoulder she had cried on less than a week ago, when the knowledge sunk in that she couldn't stop Angeal from dying. She supposed this was a healer's equivalent to a warrior's first kill, when you truly realised that you held someone's life in your hands. That you could be the difference between life and death.

That blood didn't wash off.

Aerith was not ready for this.

"Please Hawke." she said, interpreting the look in Hawke's eye as not in her favour. "You said it yourself, I'm a healer. All I want to do is help. What other chance does Angeal have?"

She narrowed her eyes at the girl.

"Fine." She said, wondering when she turned into such a pushover.

"But first you're going to tell me exactly what you have in mind. Then, if I think it sounds safe enough for the both of you, and _only then_, you can give it a shot." A life was on the line, Aerith wouldn't be trying any strange and experimental healing techniques unless they had Hawke's absolute approval.

Aerith let out a breath of relief and smiled widely.

"Also," Hawke said, thinking through the list of things that could go completely wrong. "I'd recommend trying it on Genesis first. If even the slightest thing goes wrong, Angeal probably won't survive."

"Okay, fair enough." she said, nodding along. "I'll practice on Genesis. If he doesn't mind."

Hawke wondered what Genesis would think of this odd scheme. She'd find out soon enough, she supposed.

She looked up to find Aerith now looking at her with a smile that was verging on mischievous. She eyed the girl warily.

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"You know, he is very handsome. Genesis, I mean." Aerith said with a conspiratorial grin. "Don't you think, Hawke?"

"Probably a bit too old for you, Aerith." Hawke said pleasantly, smirking back at the girl.

She spluttered, not appreciating the deflection.

"You know I'm going out with Zack."

"And yet here you are going on about Genesis." She said with mock outrage. "Really Aerith, what would your mother say?"

"That's not- You're avoiding the question Hawke." she said, putting her hands on her hips, clearly determined to squeeze at least a little gossip out of her tutor.

Hawke laughed.

"Come on, you've got some magic theory to explain to me." she said, dragging the teenager off to their seats.

Aerith explained what she had in mind and Hawke had to admit it didn't sound too bad. Rather than healing directly from the Fade (which she wasn't sure was actually possible), Aerith intended to cast some kind of buffer or support spell on herself which would make healing temporarily easier in the real world. How exactly she intended to do that was harder to explain, as her ideas were based on hunches and instinct instead of recognizable techniques. Since Hawke didn't understand how the whole Fade Shaping business worked anyway it was probably a moot point. All that mattered was that it was highly unlikely to backfire in any significant way. Probably.

She promptly called Genesis and explained the situation.

He responded to her offer of a teenager's theoretical and completely untested healing technique by asking if they could try it tonight. Desperation did interesting things to people.

A plan was soon agreed upon. In the interests of not drawing attention to any of the involved parties and hopefully not tipping off the Turks (who Genesis trusted even less then she did), they decided to meet at the dead of night at the Church. Hawke found herself becoming almost giddy at the cloak and dagger aspect of it and had to remind herself this was Serious Business, not a jolly romp through High town.

* * *

An hour past midnight the two women snuck out of the house. Hawke had considered telling Elmyra about it but decided 'I'm taking your daughter to a midnight magic ritual' might not be well received. She felt distinctly like a foolhardy teenager, sneaking out to meet someone at the dead of night while trying not to wake any of the responsible adults. Aerith certainly bought into the spirit of the endeavour and was tip toeing and stage whispering the whole way out before breaking into fits of giggles because she was clearly far too excited. Hawke spared a thought for whether or not she would regret teaching the girl how to sneak out of the second story window without drawing attention. She decided such concerns could be fretted over later.

Wandering the slums at night was incredibly dangerous and Hawke found it very soothing. The filthy city hiding under the plate managed the impressive task of being even more ominous under cover of nightfall. The church, cheery and almost picturesque in the day time was now an eerie and foreboding spectre of gothic architecture.

Inside the church was empty. Or at least it was when they arrived. Minutes after they entered a winged Genesis descended through the whole in the roof, landing softly on the floorboards. He casually banished his wing and greeted them cordially, acting for all the world as though everyone used the roof entrance.

"You _flew_ here? What happened to not drawing attention?" Hawke asked incredulously.

"Nobody saw me. You didn't really expect me to walk through the slums did you?"

"Of course not. That would be far too plebeian." She said with a grin.

He didn't dignify her with an answer and turned to focus on Aerith.

"Aerith wasn't it? What exactly did you intend to do?" he asked tersely. Hawke would have been irritated at his brusque way of her addressing her student, had Aerith not looked him in the eye and answered confidently.

"I'm going to enter the Fade and cast a modified support spell on myself, and then I'll wake up and try to heal you. I don't know how long it will take; I may need to try more than once."

"Why didn't you do this in Rocket town?" he said, giving her an intent look.

"I only just thought of it this morning." Aerith looked nervously to Hawke and then back to Genesis, "It's… it's not too late is it?"

He looked up at the city plate through the hole in the roof.

"No. It's not too late." he said.

"Let's get started then." said Hawke. "Is there anything you need, Aerith?"

"No, you don't need to do anything. Just stay close for when I wake up, I don't know how much time I'll have."

They arranged themselves inside the church and began their vigil. Aerith lay amidst the flowers and was sound asleep almost immediately, boldly strolling into the fade. Hawke sat, sprawled lazily on the wooden floor boards while Genesis claimed the nearest pew as though it were an illustrious throne. Darkness obscured most of the room, except for where they sat near the pulpit. The haze of distant Neon lights filtered in through the broken roof, casting a bluish light on the three mages. If not for the odd angles it flooded in at, you could almost believe it was moonlight.

None of the usual night time noises of the slums reached the inside of the church. The sounds of rowdy drunks, gunshots, and music from blown out speakers were all left behind in the cracked streets. They sat in expectant silence, waiting tensely for some unknown signal.

"Who is she?" Genesis suddenly asked, gesturing to Aerith.

Hawke took a breath. There was no point trying to keep it a secret given the circumstances. She was surprised he hadn't asked sooner.

"She's a Cetra." she said plainly.

He looked at Hawke before snapping back to focus on the form lying in the flowerbed. "I had assumed her to be from your world."

Hawke shook her head, "She was the first person I met here, about an hour before I stumbled into you actually. Her powers have some overlap with my own; though when I met her she didn't know how to use any of them. I've been teaching her what I can." and was no incredibly proud of how far she had come, though there was still so much for her to learn.

"I see." he said, eyes narrowing in thought. "And this healing ritual we are attempting?"

"It was her idea. This magic is beyond me, presumably some lost Cetra technique. What she knows she's discovered through trial and error." she sighed, "There's no guarantee this will work, Genesis."

He looked at her searchingly, hearing what she wasn't saying.

"You don't think it will."

"It seems… unlikely." She said, feeling like she was selling Aerith out. "She's talented, but she's still a novice."

"You didn't drag me out here for something you expect to fail did you?" he asked derisively.

She looked at him sharply. "There is a slim chance it will work. Feel free to leave if you don't think that worth your time."

He looked down and gave a bitter laugh "And go where? I have no other options."

Silence reigned again.

* * *

"Hey, I forgot to ask at the time, but did you get injured?" Hawke asked casually. "Back in Rocket town I mean."

They had been waiting for over an hour now and his attempts to silently await the outcome of this little experiment had been dashed to pieces by the woman who had no respect for the tense atmosphere.

"No, I wasn't. Why do you ask?"

"Damn." she said. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ah… I just meant it'll be easier to see if this works or not with a visible injury. Will you be able to tell otherwise?" she quickly amended.

"If her healing is anything like yours then yes, I'll feel it." he said, recalling the slight burn he had felt as the corruption was pushed back. "Every time I've been healed so far, it was as though a shroud was pulled back from my mind. My thoughts became clearer where I hadn't realized they had been muted."

As he said it he wondered at how forth coming he was being. He hadn't told anyone about this. Admitting that his mind was being altered was completely unlike him. However, there was little point hiding it from Hawke, not now anyway. She had already seen him at his worst. If the wing didn't daunt her then he doubted this would.

"You're thoughts are… shrouded?"

"It's only in sudden comparison that it's noticeable. The haze encroaches so slowly, I can barely tell. I think it may have become worse with…" his hand came up to rest on the shoulder where the wing hid and he bowed his head. She knew what he meant. Regardless of how easily she took it in stride, he couldn't shake the shame of the monstrous limb.

"But it pulls back right? When you're healed you get your mind back?" Something in her voice sounded off.

He looked up but her face was turned at such an angle as to be mostly obscured by shadow.

"Yes. As I said, I only noticed it when it retreated."

"Right." she nodded thoughtfully, expression still hidden. "Well, hopefully it'll be thoroughly routed this time." she said, lying back on the floorboards, apparently dismissing whatever had bothered her.

"One can only hope." he said, still watching her.

"Genesis." She said eventually.

"Mm?"

"I know I'm stunning and all, but starring is still rude."

He looked away, rolling his eyes.

"I'm just surprised that you can be so relaxed around me, given what you've seen. You know I'm hardly normal."

She gave a mighty yawn.

"Everybody I care about is abnormal in some way or other. It's practically a requirement." she said, eyes twinkling at the plate above them.

"You care about me, Hawke? I'm touched." he said with a smirk that covered the fact that he actually was touched.

She chuckled. "I think an old enemy of mine said it best: 'I have a growing lack of disgust for you.'"

"Now that is flattery." he said, shaking his head with a smile.

Comfortable silence settled over them. Aerith muttered something in her sleep and rolled over. Hawke sat up again. After stretching out her shoulders, she started tinkering with the clasps of her spikey gauntlet. It was obviously well kept, and just like the rest of her armour, equally well worn. Torn from her own world with nothing but the clothes on her back, he marvelled at how composed she was about it.

"Ripples form on the water's surface, the wandering soul knows no rest." he murmured.

"What is it with that poem?" She said, looking up at him. "What is it anyway? The Chant of light: heathen edition?" The smirk on her face was just daring him to be outraged.

He was very good at being outraged.

"It is not heathen!" he exclaimed, scowling at her laughing form. "It's only Gaia's greatest literary achievement, you uncultured savage." he said bitingly, knowing it was a lost cause but unable to not rise to the bait. "What's the chant of light anyway?" he said with a sneer.

She groaned and leaned back on her hands.

"It's only the most sacred writing in all of Thedas. It's an absurdly long poem that forms the basis for the Chantry."

He blinked at that.

"Your world's religion is founded on poetry?" he asked, in a tone approaching awe, "Paradise. No wonder you want to go back."

"Of course you'd think that." she said with a sardonic smile. "The Chantry is also responsible for mages being locked up. Something about magic existing to serve man, not to give him an inferiority complex. And that was incredibly blasphemous of me. Sebastian would be just sickened."

"Sebastian?" he asked.

"A Chantry priest and a friend. Criminally attractive, especially since he was celibate. He fought alongside us a couple of times but I think I made him a bit uncomfortable. That's what I get for being an unlawful mage always throwing lightning bolts about." she said.

He laughed lightly. He suspected a chaste man would have very good reason for being skittish around Hawke and it had very little to do with the law, especially when she was wielding her wild electrical energy.

He was about to speak when Aerith suddenly cried out.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! As always, reviews aren't required but are most certainly appreciated :)_

_Next Time:__ Sink or Swim. _


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